The Second Tusaine War: Back to Drell
by Bjornson09
Summary: Rated M for extreme violence and vulgur language Story set one year after RotG. Tusaine is reinvading Drell, seeking its riches. A certain Emperor is back... with a vengance. And a new character! How exciting is that? Read and find out!
1. Prologue: At the River Drell

(A/N:) Hello, friends. It's me. I really feel that I don't have to say my name this time, partly because I believe most of you know it, and partly because I'm lazy. All you really need to know is that this is the first battle of the most controversial war in the history of Tortall.

So keep reading. I mean, come on people! It's chapter four! You can't stop after you've read chapter three! It's unsportsman-like.

(End of A/N)

4. Tusaine Strikes

It was a nice night that night. Daine was feeling refreshed after a bath and plenty of sleep, and had voulenteered to take sentry duty on the fort walls.

Leaning against the wall, she remembered the events that had unfolded after she was brought back from the Divine Realms last year. How the battlefield had looked at the end, with all the blackened corpses bloated and stinking in the heat of the previous summer.

With a sigh, she put those thoughts to rest. She was in a new war now, she didn't need to be remembering old ones. Besides, it was taking her away from her sentry duty.

Suddenly, from across the fort, a flare went up. The sign of an attack. Shouts arose after the flare had been shot up, and Daine could see solders flocking to the gates, archer doing the same, except to the walls.

Daine took a quick scan of her side of the fort, noting that no one was there. She took off running along the wall, toward the othere side. Huffing and puffing, she finally reached it, to assemble with the many archers already there.

Picking a target out of the hundreds of men in Tusaine's colors rushing the walls, she loosed an arrow. It hit it's attended target, knocking him off his horse.

"For Tortall!" she yelled to the cheers of the men on the wall. Now the fighting began in earnest, arrows flying into the crowd below. To her left, she saw a patch of earth the size of one of the gates flare with black fire; Numair.

Drawing back her bowstring again, she lanced an arrow through the eye slits of a knight near one of the gates. She heard loud swearing to her left, and glanced there. John was next to her, clutching his stomach.

Swearing along with him, she knocked him down, just as an arrow was about to hit him.

"Damn, do you have no sense?" she demanded. "You don't stop to clutch your stomach when your not injured!"

She screamed a few more times, then helped him to his feet. They both began arching again, picking off targets as they picked them. John was good, not as good as her, but good.

One of the gates below opened, and Duke Gareth rode out, followed by at least sixty armed knights. More cheers arose form the archers, who were already fatigued.

That's when the Tusainian archers decided to actually get in the fight. Instead of the Tortallan archers having complete control of the battle field, Tusaine was slowly turning the tides. Three vollys of arrows later, and ten men had fallen. At that rate, half the men would be gone in no time. Daine needed to find some way to turn the tides back around...

There! The catapults, they were the only chance.

"You!" she said, grabbing John by the nape of his neck and hauling him from the wall. "Can you opperate a catapult?"

"Of couse," he replied. "But there are none on this wall!"

"I'll take care of that. Follow me," she ordered, running along the wall, John on her heels.

Reaching one of the catapults, Daine and John carefully loaded two liquid fire globs into it, and put two more into the reload pocket. Daine placed her bow and quivver onto the machine, and shape-shifted to a huge wild mountain-horse of the East.

John harnessed her with some reigns he'd found in a shed nearby, and she started pulling the machine toward the wall where the main fighting was happening.

Twice she had to stop to rest. Catapults were meant to be moved by two or three horses, not one, however big and powerful that one was.

They reached the wall, and Daine shape-shifted back to her normal self, taking care in shaping clothing around herself this time. If John noticed she was naked at first, he gave no notice. He was busy loading a case of liquid fire into the launcher.

He pulled the rope, after carefully aiming the catapult at an area away from Tortall's knights. It hit with the force of a small meteor, having been fired from a high height.

The men below burst into flame, screming and falling while clawing on their armor, with had become a heat conductor for the fire, literally singeing them to death.

The tides had turned. Tortall was again regaining control of this battle from atop their new fort, which looked like a giant D from overhead.

John loaded another liquid fire skin into the catapult, and pulled a second rope. It hit again, knocking twenty knights off their feet and to their demise. John _did _know how to opperate a catapult.

Tusaine was retreating. The last to leave were some of the braver, or stupider, archers, who tried to pick off a few more targets before retreating.

Daine was watching as one of the last archers carefully lined up a shot. She saw him loose the arrow, and didn't think. She just ran. The arrow was intended for a man who had already turned his back on the battlefield, who was making his way to the stairs.

Daine jumped sideways, using her speed to get in front of the arrow before it would hit the man. With a scream of pain, her vision went red, then black, and she dropped to the ground...

"You have failed me, Ozorne."

"I didn't think that the Tortallan's would have such a powerful and ready fort already built," Ozorne replied angrily. "Besides, I at least am trying to do something. While I am in my study finding ways to outwit the Tortallan army, you sit on your throne all day, ordering people around, even me!"

"You will hold your togue in the presence of your King."

"I am the one and only Emperor Mage of Carthak!" Ozone screamed furiously. "If anything, you should hold _your _togue in _my _presence!"

"You are no longer the Emperor Mage of Carthak. There is no Emperor Mage. The Emperor of Carthak is named Kaddar. Not Ozorne."

"Yes... but I will become the Emperor Mage once more! That was our deal," Ozorne retorted, subduing his anger.

The large door on the opposite side of the King's chambers opened. The King's brother, Duke Hilam entered, looking magnificent in even more jewels than Ozorne. Upon seeing Ozorne his lip curled into a sneer of superiority, and he bowed before his King.

"Cousin," he said, speaking in his hard voice. "I beg that you let me take over the position of top general in this war. I fought in the last war, I know how the enemy thinks. I can secure our rightful vally from the hands of Tortall. I can keep the vally in the lands of Tusaine."

"I agree with you, brother," the King replied. "But for now Ozorne will be keeping the position of general. He knows things of the enemy as well, having hosted them in his palace two years prior to now. He gets one more chance, and if he fails, you take over."

"Yes, my King," Hilam said, standing to his feet and bowing to the King of Tusaine once more. "But I must warn you, Ozorne has proven... untrustable... in the past."

He left the room. Ozorne started toward the door, intending to follow and punish the boy for speaking badly of the Emperor Mage of Carthak.

Tusaine's King squeezed the clay doll in his hand. Ozorne stopped just next to the door, falling to his knees and clutching his stomach.

"Damn you!" he screamed furiously. "I am the Emperor Mage! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

"Take him away."

Two guards sunk out of the shadows near the King's throne, walking briskly toward Ozorne. They took spots on either side of him, simultaneously clamping strong hands onto both his arms.

"Take him to the torture chamber," the King drawled lazily. "Tell the torture master to remind him his place in the palace."

The guards led Ozorne away. He was glimmering with his dampened Gift. The King was taking no chances with the former Emperor Mage. He knew of his power, and had his mages constantly pouring dampeners into the palace, so that Ozorne could not use his awesome Gift against him.

"Ozorne. How the mighty have fallen," the King sighed, playing with his jewl encrusted wizards rod, a Gift from the long-dead Duke Roger of Cont'e. "I carry out your wishes Roger, but you have ordered me to work with unusual people..."

Light flooded in through Daine's half opened eyes. She grimaced in pain, felling the effects of being hit in the chest, right above her breasts, by a arrow. Pulling back her sheets, she stood, and almost fell to the ground due to dizziness.

"Goddess, is it really that bad?" Daine wondered aloud. "I thought it only hit my shoulder..." she trailed off, looking out the window.

No cleanup crew had gone out to collect the bodies of the enemy and burn them. They lay there, most of them already bloated beyond human reconition, some shapless blackened balls.

"Merciful Mother," she muttered. "How long have I been out for?"

Spying a tray laden with food on a bedside table, Daine realized her great hunger. She shoved as much food into her mouth as it could hold, swallowing right after chewing. Hungrily, she began to eat more.

Seeing also a pitcher of water and a glass next to it, she picked up the entire pitcher. Pain ripped through her chest, and she dropped the pitcher with a cry of pain.

A maid rushed into the room, looking tousled in her black and white outfit, her hair, which had been up in a bun was frayed and poking out everywhere.

"I'm sorry," Daine sobbed. "I was just so thirsty, and I didn't think to pour it into the cup..."

"No, It's alright, please. It's my job, dearie," the maid replied, mustering a weak smile while taking out a dry rag. "I believe Master Numair is looking for you."

Daine hobbled out of the room, clutching her chest. The wound wasn't so horribly bad, and it would heal in time, but until then she was in for the ride from hell. Almost every physical motion a human could do with their arms involved some using of the muscle in their chest as well.

Onua was sitting in a wooden bench outside the room, kneeling and praying to the Goddess.

Daine tapped her on the shoulder.

"Daine! Oh thank you, Mother," she cried, wrapping Daine in a tight hug.

Daine tried not to wince, but it escaped her lips anyway. Onua drew away, looking worried.

"Daine?..."

"I'm fine, Onua," Daine replied with a small smile. "It just hurts a little."

"It would be fair strange if a wound _didn't _hurt somewhat," Onua laughed.

Daine stopped walking suddenly, quick flashes came to her mind. It was Ozorne, in his human form, being dragged away from a room that was lit brightly by many torches, and wid open windows. Out the window she could just barely see a glimmer of water. The Drell River!

"Daine?" Onua asked, her laughter replaced with a worried look once more.

"Please," Daine gasped. "I'm fine... get Numair." She crumpled into a nearby bench, breathing heavily. Ozorne was alive! In the Drell River vally! But how? She had killed him with her badger's claw.

She dug the claw out from under her nightshirt, looking at it. She remembered vividly how she'd killed Ozorne. She'd jabbed the claw into his throat and ripped horizontally, across his artery.

Fast footsteps aproached; Numair and Onua.

Daine sprung up, clinging to Numair desperatly.

"Onua, please leave," Numair said quietly. "My student wishes to speak to me privatly."

Onua walked away. Numair stood with Daine leaning against him until her footsteps had receeded away down the hall, then said, "We'll talk in my study."

He led the way to his study, Daine following closly behind.

As soon as they'd reached the room, Numair put a magic barrier around it, making sure their conversation wouldn't be heard.

"Ozorne is alive," Daine said, now on the brink of tears.

"Daine, how can that be?" Numair asked, stripping off his robes as he spoke.

"I don't know... I had a vision. Ozorne is working with the King of Tusaine. He was being dragged away from the King's chambers... I need a map of the river vally."

Numair took a map out of his desk.

"Here," he said softly, replacing his sweat soaked shirt for a clean one. Daine took the map, and scanned it.

"The vision I had was of a building on top of these hills," she pointed to the hills above the river on the other side.

"We have to show this to the King," Numair commented. "I believe he's planning a counter-attack to the one that happened just last night. Let's go."

They climbed down a flight of stairs to the war chamber, entering to the surprise of Jonathan, and the Lioness.

"Numair? Daine?" Jonathan asked. "Well, I don't know why your here, but I was just going to send a servant to fetch you anyways. Daine, I need you in paticular."

"Yes, Highness?" she asked, inclining her head in a bow.

"That would be 'Jon', Daine," Jonathan replied. "Alright, back to buisness."

He walked to the front of the room, where a large, detailed map was pinned to the wall.

"My Uncle and I have created a counter-attack plan," he indicated the board. "Raoul and my Uncle will lead the armies through this forest," he pointed at the forest that lay one hundred yards away from the northern wall of the fort. "And attack Fort Drell on its weak side. Now, For Drell has how many catapults on each wall?" he looked at John who was prestent. Jacob was not.

"Three on each wall, sire," John replied, walking up to join the King. He pointed at the three walls of Fort Drell that were nearest Fort Tortall. "Three here, here, and here."

"Right," Jonathan continued. "We need someone that can shape-shift to fly over there and take out six of those nine catapults."

"Me?" Daine asked, surprised.

"Who else?" the King asked.

"Me," Numair replied, "I can shape-shift."

"We need someone who is a little... erm... better at it than you, Numair," the King said flatly. "Young Daine here can change different parts of her body at different times, no one would expect it. Plus you are," he looked up at Numair's towering frame. "Slightly to large for such a covert opperation."

"If I do this, how will I get word to Raoul and Duke Gareth?" Daine asked, knowing she would do it.

"John has told us there's a large fire bin in the corner of the fort, here," Jonathan pointed at the corner of the fort nearest the forest. "Raoul will have a man scale a tree, and he will report when he sees the fire flare up. The enemy lights the fire at regular times, to signal to the other sentries at the fort that everything is alright on their side of the wall. If this plan is carried out with painstaking care, it is perfect."

"But... if they light it regularily, then won't there be a schedule, and what of the sentries on that wall?" Daine asked.

"Ah, your friend Vindine has voulenteered to take care of them," the King replied.

Vindine nodded at her from across the room.

"When can I go?"


	2. Daine's Strength

(A/N:) Hello again, faithful readers. Just Number29 reporting on the progress of the story.

Before I go on, I'd like to state that if my submission of chapters seems unscheduled, you should probably know that they may not be submitted once a week as I had originally planned. There are certain forces, also known as my mother, that keep me from submitting my story to fanfiction, and I really cannot be blamed for that.

Keep reading, and you'll discover the greatness that is this story. I'll tell you later how long I'm planning on making it, for those who would like to know. (That pretty much means I have no idea as of now.)

Anyway, please keep reading. You've been doing so good so far! Don't give up now, that would be a shame to your reading and reviewing skills. You'd be ashamed if you read the prologue and then stopped reading here. It may be the first chapter, but be warned! Tons of action to come!

Oh, and before I forget, I do not have a spell, checker. If you find any words that you feel/know are spelled wrong, just tell me via email ) or via review. I don't care which. Don't forget to actually read the story, mind you.

Commence reading...

(End of A/N)

1. Daine's Strength

Jonathan sat on his thrown, beaming proudly at the people in the ballroom. His young son was taking his first dance, not with his sister as he sometimes did, but with a beatiful young noble girl, perhaps a year or so older than him. The entire Court, and everyone else was watching with a happy sort of stunned silence. It was a beautiful, and great thing to see the prince of the realm taking his first dance. Not to mention that all of the onlookers were highly privelidged to see such an event.

Suddenly, startling the entire Court, and the guests, the large entrance doors to the ballroom swung open. In staggered a exhausted, sweating, half-dead looking man.

"My King!" he cried, quickly bowing.

"Yes?" Jonathan asked, rising. "Get him food and drink!" he barked at a servant. "Cheese, meat, brandy, and cool water." After bowing the servant hurried to carry out the King's wishes.

"King Jonathan III of Cont'e," the man said, trying to be formal, beside the fact that he was still gasping for breath, and he had to stop often. "I have come from Fort Drell. Tusaine has broken your treaty. They are again in our lands. Last night they killed the morning defense force of Fort Drell. The only survivors are Jacob Irning, and John Westing. Before the fort was over taken, they sent me to you on my horse. Tuesaine has invaded us again."

For a stretched length of silence, the King stood still, his back strait. Finally with a sigh, he settled back into his throne.

"Get me Sir Raoul, commander of the King's Own," he commanded warily of a servant. "Have someone prepare a room for this messenger. Also get me Duke Naxen, and Gareth the Younger of Naxen. Send someone trusted by me to get Sir Alanna of Trebond. Tell Raoul to ready the armies." He paused as the servant left the room at a full run. "Thayet? Are you going to assemble your Riders?"

Queen Thayet nodded, and stood. Losing all traces of her proper behavior at the ball, she shoved through two nobles on her way out. Buri, who always accompanied the Queen, followed.

"Return to your homes!" Jonathan boomed at the nobles that still stood staring from their seats. "Get me Numair Salmal'in and Veralidaine Sarrasri. They will be needed." Another servant left, to fetch Numair and Daine. "We face the prospect of war, again."

The Dominionative Jewl, which was always on Jonathan's neck during these restless times, sparkled, the only part of him revealing his great anger.

"The King is mad," Numair commented randomly, knocking Daine's chess piece off of the board. "He is requiring us."

"I'll never understand this," Daine muttered helplessly. "Why're there so many rules?"

"Come, Daine," Numair called, pulling on his black robes and heading toward the door. "I said that the King requires us, didn't I?"

"Did you?" Daine asked, balancing Kitten on her hip and going to meet Numair at the door. "Come on, Kitten," she ordered, setting down the dragon. "Follow me." Kitten gave a small chirp in reply, and followed the briskly walking Daine and Numair from the room to the King's chambers on all fours; the best way for four-legged creatures to move fastly.

"Numair, Daine!" Jonathan snapped as they entered his chambers. "Sit. What took you so long? Raoul, Gary, and Alanna will be here soon. As you can see, my uncle is already."

Jonathan's uncle, Gareth the older of Naxen, nodded to them from a chair in the corner. His brow was furrowed in thought.

Thayet, Buri, Sarge, their graces Duke Maren, Duke Terragen, and the young Duke of Trebond joined their fellow Duke, Gareth the older of Naxen, in the chamber. Alanna followed them, Gary right behind her. They all took their places, sitting in their designated chairs.

"Tusaine has invaded the River Drell again," Jonathan said, clearly fuming. "Do they need me to unleash my superior army again, and defeat them once more? Did they not get the message the first time?"

There was a knock on the door.

"What?" Jonathan asked. "If it's more bad news..."

"My King," a servant said, bowing deeply. "May I present Sir John Westing and Sir Jacob Irning of Fort Drell?"

"Yes."

Two men, the first lean and tall, the second wide-shouldered and muscular, entered the room. Daine saw with pity that the muscular man, Jacob, was injured in the shoulder. The other man, John seemed to have to hold a certain spot on his stomach every time he moved, and had a grimace set on his face.

"You may be seated," the King said, guestering to two of the other chairs in the room. "And then," his eyes glittered with anger, "You can explain to us _how_, by the might of the Gods, Fort Drell was overtaken."

"Sire," Jacob started right away. "We was attacked, in the mornin' when all is quiet like at Fort Drell. We's weren't expectin' 'n attack, but we was ready for one."

"Go on."

"John and me, we was up on top of the western wall of the fort, survayin' the vally below. John was jumpy, told me he felt like somthin' was gonna be happenin'. He seemed twitchy 't me, so I gave him some of me brandy, and he drank it. It seemed 't be workin' 'till that damned archer hit him in the stomach."

So that's why he clutches his stomachDaine thought.

"Continue."

"Then some other archer shot me clean through me shoulder, it was John's quick thinkin' that saved both of us. He wet two pieces of cloth with brandy, put one in me shoulder, and one in his own wound."

"And then?" Jonathan asked. "And how could Tusaine have gotten such effecient archers? Last we fought them, they had poor excuses for solders."

"Well, then John sounded me horn," Jacob replied, wiping his sweating brow. "An the men come-a-running', could you spare a thirsty man some brandy, sire?" he asked, then instantly said, "'Scuse, your Highness. I've no right 't ask."

"No, It's quiet alright," Jonathan replied, nodding to a servant, who produced a flask of brandy from a pocket in his tunic.

"Much obliged," Jacob said, taking a huge swig. "Then, sire, the blooming captain gets hit in the throat, arrow right into 'is godforsaken artery. He went down like a ton 'o bricks. Then John, and nigh three others crept to the other side of the western wall, and unloaded on 'em. But the Tusaine's knights were already a-runnin' on their damned horses... they broke down the front gate, and slaughtered everyone on the lower levels, workin' their way to the roof. John got us out, and... here we is."

A hushed silence followed this mans words. If what they were saying was true, and, since Numair hadn't said they were lying, Daine supposed they were telling the truth, they were to win back _both _the fort _and _the vally.

"How many animals are in the vally?" she asked suddenly.

Jacob and John both looked at her wearily. "'Scuse, Miss?" Jacob asked.

"How many animals are in the vally?" Daine asked patiently, smiling warmly at them.

Jacob and John both looked at each other quizzicly. "Nigh near thousands, Miss," Jacob finally replied. "It's teamin' this the wee 'ittle beasties."

Daine nodded. There were many animals there. She would ask them to leave when they got there.

"This situation is... unsettling," Jonathan finally said, clasping his wife, Theyet's, hand tightly. "I will surely, if I declair war upon Tusaine, be considered not a peace-maker like my father, but rather, the second conquerer King of Tortall."

"No!" Gary protested. "By declairing war you only do what is right! They have taken an enire fort away from you, broken a treaty, trespassed on lands they are forbidden to step on, and challanged your athority as King."

"I realize this!" Jonathan yelled back. "But is a war worth a fort of men? Or the River Drell vally?"

"Oh course it's worth the damned fort!" John said, speaking up for the first time. "And the vally as well. You can't tell me you know not of all the riches the vally sends to the capital each year? Salmon, deer, fresh drinking water, furs of animals, grain, gold, copper, fish..."

"Yes, I realize that. Shall it be a vote than? Those for it?" Jonathan said. Daine noted that Alanna the Lionesses hand was first to go up.

"I fought in the first Tusaine war," Gary reminded Jonathan. "I'll gladly clash this those bastards again."

Jonathan counted the hands raised. Daine had not raised hers. She felt that war was sensless, violent, and pointless. But she would fight for her King if the vote passed.

"Motion passed," Jonathan said flatly. "Daine, you may leave. Everyone else, besides John and Jacob, stay. We will now have a war council."

After saying good-bye to Numair, she left the room, headed for the archery range. She was one of the best archers in the palace, better than the Lioness herself, but that didn't come to her because she slouched around and didn't practice! She spent nearly five hours a day, when they weren't on the road, at the archery range, mostly just using the bow her father had given her the year before, in the Realms of the Gods.

Reaching the archery range, Daine took the bow from her back, strung it expertly, and fitted one of her homemade arrows into the notch. If the two men near her, John and Jacob, thought this odd, they didn't voice it. They did, however, take up archery posts further away than anyone who knew her would.

Daine let her arrow fly, hitting the middle of the target with the ease of long practice. Then, in rapid succession, she shot two arrows, directly into the first arrow, splitting it in two. The two men were now glaring at her through slitted eyes.

Feeling uneasy, Daine set her bow on a block there exactly for that purpose.

"What?" she demanded of the two men.

"You shoot like the archers that attacked us," Jacob sneered at her. "C'mon John, let's get'er."

Suddenly, both men charged at her --- fast. But she was ready. Last year, after the ordeal with Ozorne, a Shang warrior had visited the palace. After much asking, and a little persuasion from Alanna, the Shang had agreed to train Daine in the art of fighting with all weapons, including a sword, and with her fists.

She leapt into the air, doing a sort of forward summersalt, going right over Jacob. Not wasting any time, she turned as he stumbled past her, and kicked him in his right leg, knocking him to his knees. Drawing back a trained arm, she punched him in the back of the head with a sickening crack. His face smashed into the dirt; unconsious.

Taking pity on him, she flipped him over, laying him on his back, so he could breath and would not suffocate on dirt. Using her distraction to his advantage, John attacked furiously. Ducking, dogging, and twisting to avoid his fastly flying fists, she went on the defense. When he misplaced a step, she slid between his widly spread legs, punching up as she went through.

John grabbed his groin, moaning in pain. Daine wasn't done with him yet, though. With strength not expected of a girl only now becoming an adult, she hit him in the face with a bone-crunching backward roundhouse kick, sending him reeling to the side. Quickly following through, she brought her leg down while bringing her fist up, knocking him a punch square on his chin. John's head snapped back, but he didn't fall unconscience, like all of her other opponents.

Grabbing his arm, she flipped him over her hip, making him hit the ground with an echoing thud. Quickly the thrust her foot into the center of his chest. His wind knocked out, he went white for a few seconds, then got to his feet. This was becoming childish. He should have stayed down, Daine thought grimly. He'll pay for it now!

With eight punches to fast for the eye to see, Daine knocked John backward. While he was still stumbling, she jumped into the air. Time seemed to stand still for a few seconds, as she decended onto John, legs and arms flashing in a combination of moves that no ones eye could see.

Satisfied, she stepped back, only for him to spring back up, and knock her to her to her back. This wasn't good. Now he had the upper hand, as he was still standing. He began to kick her in the side. Daine bit back tears, and held her breath. Pretending to be beaten, she waited until he ceased his kicking, and reached up, grabbing his crotch. He screamed with pain, as she squeezed as hard as she could.

He smacked her hand away, staggering backwark, clutching his crotch. Daine leaped to her feet, kicking him in both legs, buckling his knees.

"You live to regret the day that Verrdaine Sarricarsci was angered with you," she spat before kicking him violently in the back of the head. She didn't even bother to flip him over, as she turned back to her archery.


	3. The Great Ride East

(A/N:) Hey! It's me, Number29, also known as Jake the King to some people on fanfiction. Welcome to chapter two!

If you've made it this far, I congradulate you. It wasn't easy, I know, but I did it and you can too, although some of you already have.

Don't let the title of this chapter fool you! It's not just about them riding east. That would be boring! I wouldn't ever bore you on purpose. Never. I care about you too much.

Wait! Don't stop! Keep reading! You've made it this far, what good would it be to turn back now? None! More action ahead...

(End of A/N)

2. The Great Ride East

Daine woke with the dawn, as she always did. Numair was dressing in his room that annexed hers, she could hear him moving around. Sighing, she muttered to Kitten, "Here we go..."

Today, after declairing war the day before, the armies were riding to the Drell River, accompanied by the war mages, and the Queen, Thayet's, Riders.

Hoisting herself out of bed, Daine quickly pulled on breeches, a worn leather over-tunic, her thin normal tunic, and clipped her sword onto her belt. She repeated the same motion, clipping her bow onto her back, on a belt that ran diagonal from her left hip to her right shoulder.

Remembering the two daggers that had been given to her by George Cooper, she fitted them into the inside of her boots, in special holisters she'd made herself. Whistling to Kitten, she opened the door, and walked out into the shining sun.

Already solders, riders, noblemen, and mages were milling about outside. You could virtually feel the tension in the air. Everyone's faces were grim. Today was not a day for smiles. Suddenly, someone tapped Daine's shoulder.

Daine looked up, and smiled at the form of Tknombi Deminio, otherwise known as the Shang Dragon, the succeesor of Lion Ironarm. He smiled back.

"Time for a quick morning session?" he asked her. "I am riding with you to the fort. I am going to fight as a Tortallan." He thumped a powerful fist against his chest. "I am going to fight for King Jonathan."

Daine smiled at him again, happy that at least this Shang warrior was interested in the affairs of the world.

"That's good," she replied. "What did you have in mind for this 'quick morning session?'"

He shrugged. "Just a fair and honest fight between equals."

Equals! Daine thought wildly. Equals? This is the Shang Dragon I'm talking to. I'll never be his equal in a fight.

"Alright," she replied, unable to refuse her teacher. "Where?"

"Here," he said. Instantly, he took off his tunic, revealing tightly muscled bare skin. "Come at me."

Daine stripped off her over-tunic, along with her sword and daggers. Stepping into a stance, she did exactly as she was told: she went at him. A flying kick was knocked away, and she fell, rolled fast before he could hit her, rolled to her feet, and roundhouse kicked him in the chest.

He lurched backward, almost stumbling over his tunic. Regaining his balance, he ran at her in a zig-zag pattern to fast for her to see. Taking a lucky guess, she punched to her left, and her fist collided with his tan face.

Grinning despite her near call, Daine step-kicked him from his waist to his chest. When she was about to start on his face, he grabbed her leg, and threw her down. She sprang to her feet, ducking a fast kick, and kicked him in the side.

He stumbled to the left, then in the same motion, punched her in the stomach, then turned and kneed her in the chin. She fell to the ground, saying, "I lose."

"So it seems."

Daine laughed. "You know, for a Shang that has never had a sense of humor, you sure have a good sense of humor."

"Daine, time to go," Numair informed her from atop his gelding, Spots. "Come."

"Yes, master," Daine replied happily, jumping onto Cloud's back.

I _hate _it when you do that, the pony informed her. It isn't exactly _fun_ to be leapt upon, you know.

Daine took her place next to Numair as they began their great ride east, to the River Drell. From her position she could survay the entire troop, and the surrounding areas, as she and Numair flanked the King's left side. John and Jacob were keeping well away from her, and were somewhere at the back of the lines.

It was very uneventful the first day riding. The biggest thing that happened was when one horse got spooked by something, but Daine didn't even have to climb down to calm it. She just threw a rope of her magic at it, and calmed it that way.

"This is boring," she complained after about their third hour of riding. "None of our other rides have been this boring. The solders aren't even tense!" she guestered at the men, all of whom looked asleep in their saddles.

Numair blinked at her.

"Did you say something?" he asked her bleakly, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "This is the saddest thing I've ever seen," he added, gazing at the army. "Has our army really lost so much moral? They look like _Scanra _could beat them right now."

Daine glared at him, and guided Cloude further away.

"What?" he demanded wildly. "What did I do!?"

Daine didn't reply, and instead urged her mount forward.

They stopped to camp in the forest after six hours of hard riding. The men were all exhausted, and even the King himself turned in early.

It was a deadly quiet night. Daine, tunning in her magical ears, heard none of the People. Usually, sensing her presence, she prosumed, they flocked to her, wanting her to know they were there, and willing to make friends.

But tonight was different. She could just barely feel animals on the edges of the range of her magic. They had fled the area hours before Tortall's armies had arrived.

She called to them, and they answered that something was wrong with the forest. Something lay in wait, something pure evil. Something that cared not for life.

Instantly awake, Daine scrambled up from the ground, grabbing onto Cloud.

"Cloud!" she asked. "Does something feel wrong with the forest? Is there something different about it?"

The mare gazed at her with eyes out of focus, and replied curtly: Like _I _should know? All I know is that I'm _very, very _tired. Leave be.

"Something's wrong," Daine muttered, more to herself than to the mare. "Something just isn't right. The People are right. There _is _something wrong with this forest."

Daine began walking to the main camp. She was headed for the King's tent, to explain to him that the should move out of the forest, perhaps camp along the road instead. Reaching the camp, she viewed a strange sight.

The men were all sleeping. There horses were all lazing about, most feeling to tired to lift a hoof. The King's tent was set in the center of the others, so if an attack came, he'd be well protected.

She burst into his tent, not bothering to think if he was asleep, or going about private duties. He wasn't, which Daine viewed as good, because if she had walked in on her King naked, she'd never view him the same way.

"Jon," she said breathlessly. "There's something wrong. The men, the animals. Everything is wrong. The forest... it... it isn't right. Something has... has infected it. It seethes with evil. I... I can feel it."

He glanced up at her, closing the book of mage spells he'd been reading.

"Daine, what's wrong?" he asked her, gazing at her with sleepy eyes.

"Everything, sire," she replied darkly. "It has infected the men. There... we have to wake them! Where's Numair!"

"In his tent, sleeping, like any respectable man would be doing now," the King said, shrugging her worries away. "Should we get him?"

"No, no, no," Daine replied, shaking her head. "I'll get him myself, sire. You sleep, understand?"

He nodded, and climbed into a bedroll on the floor, layed down his head, and winked at her.

Daine scowled, and left through the back entrance to the tent. Running, she made her way to Numair's tent. Noisily, she burst through the door of his tent.

"Quiet!" he hissed at her. He had his staff, the one Weiryn had given him, in hand. "There are creatures, unworldly ones, moving about. We must wake the men."

Daine nodded, baffled. Unworldly creatures? Didn't seem like anything a girl from Snowsdale in Galla would know of.

"Oh Gods," Numair whispered. "It's to late. I'll have to wake them with magic!" His crystal flared, and the angry cries of the sleepy men rose from the field.

"Run Daine! Hide! These are not normal enimies. Magic may defeat them, but, like the skinners last year, they seem... different. I doubt arrows and daggers will stop these."

When she didn't move, he dropped his staff, and grabbed her gruffly by the shoulders. "Daine! :Listen to me! You have to leave! Take Cloud, ride to the waypoint. Do not return until morning, understand?"

"Numair," Daine whisperd, wincing in pain. "You're hurting me."

"Do it Daine!" Numair screamed. "I love you. I won't let you die!"

He guided her to the door of his tent, where Cloud awaited.

"Take her to the waypoint. Do not, under any circumstances, allow her to get off of you. Do not stop. I want you to ride all the way there. If she complaines, or tries to make you stop with her magic, ignore with all of your being," he ordered the mare, putting a hand that flared with magic on the mares head.

Cloud neighed loudly, trying to bite Numair, but she couldn't move. Numair lifted Daine onto Cloud's back, using magic to strap her to the mare's back.

"Do not stop until you reach the waypoint," he reminded the mare, then gave her a good hard slap on her hindquarters.

With a snort of anger, Cloud obeyed. Daine twisted in the saddle, trying to look behind her. Finally she did. And she had the fleeting image of a huge being, glowing white, burst from the trees, to the shouts of fear of hundreds of men.

Daine woke up, surprised to find that she wasn't in the camp. Her head ached something fearsome, as did all her muscles. Nearby Cloud was laying on her side, panting noisily. The air was humid and warm.

Memory flooded Daine's brain: Numair forcing Cloud to take her from the camp. And the creatures! Where was Numair? He needed her! She had to find him.

Glancing at Cloud, she saw to her dismay that the pony was in no condition for more than a legue's worth of riding. She slumped to the ground, defeated.

Cloud neighed loudly. Daine looked up, tears running down her soft cheeks.

**You can call another horse**, Cloud reminded her.** I'm not the only horse in the realm, you know.**

"You're right!" Daine exclaimed. "Thank you, Cloud." The girl rushed to the pony and hugged her tightly. "I'll come back for you after I've dealt with Numair."

Don't be so hard on the stork-man, Cloud replied. He loves you. That's why he made me take you away.

Daine called to the people with her Wild Magic. She found a coral of horses, barely a fourth of a legue away.

_Horse-brother, _she called, _I need your speed. Will you help me?_

She felt one of the younger stallions, full of pride and strength, thinking about it. Finally, after what seemed like years, he replied in a voice that practically echoed in her mind:

**I will help you. Give me wizdom of where you are.**

Daine gave him knowledge of where she was. Two minutes of trotting later, he was there, looking magnificent with his shining black coat, and the symbol of what resembled a cresent moon on his forhead.

The girl took the saddle off of Cloud, putting it onto the horse, who revealed his name to be Dagger.

What a strange name for a horse, Daine thought. Dagger. Hmm...

**Is there a problem? **Dagger demanded. **I would like to get going _before _the new moon.**

Daine laughed as she swung one leg up and over Daggers back, securing it into the left sturrip.

_No, let us ride._

Dagger was as fast and strong as his mind gloated. His speed was increadable! He was running faster than any horse she'd ever ridden. Her curls whipped around her head in the turbulance created by Dagger's running.

They reached the camp in what seemed like no time at all. Daine felt new tears swell up in her eyes as she saw what havoc the creatures she glimpsed before created. The camp was in ruin. The tents flattened to the ground, fires burning at random spots. Smoke filled the air above the camp, dark and thick.

Daine urged Dagger forward, onto the campground. Now she could smell death. She smelt rotten flesh, blood, and sweat.

Tears clouding her vision, she jumped off of Dagger's back, ordering him to go back to the road and wait for her. He obeyed gladly, already antsy in this area of death.

"Is someone there?" a strained voice, filled with pain asked. "Please, can you help me?"

Daine cried in earnest now, letting the tears flow down her cheeks. She knelt by the dying solders side.

"What happened here?" she asked him sadly. "What did this?"

"I know not their names, all I know is that they left as suddenly as they came. They struck hard and fast. Had it not been for Master Numair, we would all be dead. The King, and the rest of the men followed them back into the forest. Am I going to die?"

Daine gripped his hand tightly.

"Yes. I'm not going to lie to you. You're to far gone. There's nothing I can to to help. But I swear your death will not be in vain," she replied, wiping the tears from her eyes with her free hand.

The solder layed his head on the ground, and died with a smile on his face.

Daine, fueled with a new emotion, made her way to her tent. Thanking the Gods that it hadn't been burnt to the ground along with the others, she entered. The sight that awaited her almost made her heart burst from her chest.

Sitting on her bedroll was a strange looking creature. His skin was a deep tan, his eyes were solid black against the white part. It wore no clothes that she could see, but she couldn't determine its sex.

Suddenly, it glanced up at her, its eye's growing wide as if it hadn't noticed she'd walked in.

Hello? it asked in a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Who are you?

Daine slapped her hands over her ears, only to discover that the voice was inside her head.

"My name is Daine. I'm a human," she replied. "What, and who, are you?"

"I am Vindine Essillia. I am of the Enetrian," he said, now speaking in the voice of a normal person, not using mind to mind contact. "You wish to find those responsible for what happened here," he commented.

"You can... you can read minds?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes," it replied. "I can see your thoughts, feel your feelings."

"Are you a male, or a female?" Daine asked, her eyes twitching nervously toward her bow and her sword that lay in the corner.

"I am male," he Vindine replied, then added, "You have nothing to fear of me. I am not a chaos being, I am not a god. I am an immortal. You are a mortal female girl. You wish to find those responsible for what happened here, yes?"

"Yes," she replied excited. "Wait until I've gotten ready, then I'll follow you to them."

Daine picked up her sword and belt, connecting them to her breeches. Then she scooped up her bow and her quivver, putting the quivver on her back, hanging limply from one shoulder, and clenched her bow tightly in her left hand.

"Let's go," she said, and followed him into the forest.

Vindine led her through the forest at an extremely fast pace, much like the speed that her friend Tkaa the Basilik traveled at when he felt the need. She could see evidence of battle in places along the way, but she saw no dead men.

They reached a stream after a few minutes of hard running. It looked shallow, but Daine knew otherwise. It wasn't even a stream, it was a full fledged river, that happened to thin out in this one spot. It had to bee at least five feet deep.

"Can you carry me?" she asked Vindine, praying he could. She didn't want to have come this far only to have to turn back now.

"Of course," he replied, picking her up easily with one strong arm, then cleared the river with one long jump.

They continued their journey, stopping every once in a while so that Vindine could find the trail again. After another hours worth of tracking they came to a large clearing.

The clearing was filled with the army, and they were fighting the brightly glowing cretures that Daine had glimpsed the night before, seconds after Numair had ordered Cloud to take her out of the camp.

King Jonathan and Numair were fighting side by side, both shimmering with their Gifts. The thing that scared her though, was the fact that the glowing creatures seemed to be holding their own against an entire army, and quiet possibly the most powerful mage in the world.

The Dominion Jewl around Jonathan's neck shone, and quickly following, a net of thorn bushes sprang up around one of the creatures, envoloping him in a deadly cage.

With a roar that sounded through the entire forest, it broke the net, reaching for the King. Instantly, black fire with bits of white in it swarmed around its hand; Numair's Gift.

With a cry of pain, it drew back its hand, clutching it tightly.

Daine flew into action, noticing that one had come up behind the King and Numair without their knowing, and that the other men were all to busy to help. Giving a silent prayer to the Great Mother goddess, she drew her bowstring back to her ear, took careful aim, and loosed an arrow.

The arrow lanced into the creature's forehead. A small gurgle rose from somewhere on its body, and it fell to the ground like a giant tree. Wasting no time, Daine drew back her bowstring again, picking another target, the one Numair was defending the King from.

Releasing her arrow, Daine reached into her quivver for more, after her arrow had plunged into the creature's chest.

Finding no arrow, Daine swore, and threw her bow to the base of a nearby tree, along with her quivver.

"Strange that arrows effect a Binetreum when magic does not," Vindine commented from behind her. His body was glowing with a strange orange color. "My race should have banished them to the realms of Eternal Pain when we had the chance. And trust me, we would have, had we known they'd be set loose into the mortal realms."

"You know of these beasts?" Daine asked, surprised by Vindine, not for the first time. "What did you say they were? Binetreum?"

"Yes. I'd love to tell you all about our long and violent existance, but I'm afraid I've other things on my mind right now," Vindine replied sarcastacly, throwing up a shield of orange magic to block a shapeless blob of whitish substance. It burst apart upon contact with the shield, plastering it with the substance, which seemed to burn.

"Did I mention that the Binetreum are basicaly giant walking blobs of acid?" Vindine asked, taking down the shield. "More will arrive soon. They usually travel in packs of ten."

Daine didn't reply. She was to busy watching a very small version of the larger Binetreum, who was spitting very slow moving globs of acid at her from a distance of twenty feet.

"They have children with them?" Vindine asked himself, then screamed: "No! That means that there will be more than ten! There will be a queen!"

He flew into the air, with wings Daine had not noticed on his back before. They were like Eagle's wings, but the bones in them must be heavier. Glowing a darker orange than before, he shouted a word in a strange language that sounded vaguely like "Inishium Binetreum."

Daine looked away from him, just in time to duck another glob of the acid. The little one was making her angry. He was only a child, she knew, but he had the same arrogance as the adult Binetreum.

"I warn you, child," she said, "If you throw one more of your damned acid blobs at me, and I will slice you apart, showering your vile blood on our sacred earth."

If the Binetreum heard her, it gave no evidence. Instead of obeying, it threw another of its seemingly unexhaustable acid blobs at her.

Sighing, she unsheathed her sword, dogging another of the slow moving acid blobs in the process.

"I gave you fair warning," she yelled, and ran at him.

In a flash of moves even the Lioness would be proud of, she hit the creature with the flat of her blade in three different places: head, ribs, and chest. It slumped to the ground; unconsious.

Unclipping her belt, she set the sword next to her bow, and stepped back into the fight, to challange another young Binetreum.

With a screech she viewed as acceptance of her challange, it threw more of the blobs at her. She dogged them all the way until she was a foot away from him, then she kicked at him with her right leg, smacking him backward with a powerful hit.

He hit the ground and didn't get up.

"Foolish!" Vindine yelled from above her. "The young Binetreum are no threat! It is the adults we have to worry about!"

Listening, Daine turned to an adult Binetreum. Sliding a dagger into her hand from the small of her back, she leapt atop him. Climbing up his body, she balanced on his shoulder, as he tried to shake her off.

Ignoring him, she stabbed him with the dagger nine times, each time drawing blood. On the last stab of her dagger, he stumbled into another of his kind, then they both toppled to the gound.

Daine, using the same dagger, quickly flung it at the others head. It stirred only once, then lay still. Focusing on the great bears of the North, Daine shifted shape into a bear.

Looking with grim pleasure at the ripping meat-hook claws on both of her front legs, also used for arms with a bear, she stood up to another of the Binetreum.

Charging at it with the unlikely speed of the bear, she sliced with both claws, in and then up, gutting her opponent. Staggering for a few seconds, he joined his brethren on the ground.

Wasting no time, Daine quickly spun, and plunged her paw, claws spread wide, into the stomach of another. It fell without persuasion.

Noticing another of the beasts behind her, she kicked with her powerful back legs. Her leg litterally tore the Binetreum's lower stomach apart, and he fell on top of her.

Struggling desperatly, she wormed her way out from under its huge bulk, and stood. Survaying the battle field, she saw that none of the Binetreum remained. All were dead, even the children.

Shifting back to herself, Daine ran to Numair, throwing her arms around him.

"I thought you'd died!" she sobbed into his chest.

Hearing no answer, she looked up. His face was a deep scarlet. He was blushing uncontrollably. Numair motioned to her body, and she looked down. She was naked, wareing nothing but the silver badgers claw on her neck.

Blushing also, Daine purposly reshaped clothing around her body slowly. For some reason she wanted Numair to see her naked for a while longer.

When she was done, she looked back up at him, and jumped onto him. They toppled to the ground with her on top. Quickly she kissed him three times, then pushed herself off of him, and stood.

"I'm glad your safe, maglet," he replied, and also stood. "What would I do without you?" Seeing Vindine, he added, "Whoe's this?"

"This is Vindine of the Enetrian," Daine said. "He knows about those that you were fighting. Would you like to talk to him?"

Numair's eyes gave him away.

"Of course! An opportunity to gain more knowledge?" he replied, and led Vindine over to a pair of rocks near the edge of the clearing.

Daine straitened, brushed her curls out of her face, and went to the King.

"Jonathan," she said, "Can I borrow a horse? I've got to go get Cloud."

"Of course, Daine," he told her warmly. "I'm not blind, you know. I saw that you killed that one that snuck behind us back there. What were they?"

"Numair will explain," Daine yelled over her shoulder as she ran toward a horse.

Jumping up onto the horse bareback, Daine raced out of the clearing toward the road.


	4. Legendary Swordsman

(A/N:) Surprise, it's me. Number29. Also known as Jake the King

I really am not going to write much of a Author Note here. I think the title explains pretty much everything you need to know about this chapter. Plus my fingers are already tired from typing for almost a strait hour, correcting mistakes, creating this chapter, an so on.

Anyway, all you need to know is that there is action ahead. Lots of it. Plus a new character. Want to know his name? Oh... well you've been pretty good so far. Alright, here we go. His name is... is... is Jakkar Inimul Shu. Remember that name. It will be said many times throughout the book, perhaps more than two times in this very chapter! Ha Ha!

Keep reading.

(End of A/N)

3. Legendary Swordsman

After the men had recovered from the surprise attack by the Binetreum, the armies set out again. Daine was in the same spot she'd began, and noted with a satisfied feeling that the men were all tense, and on their toes.

It was one of the hottest days of the year, as it was already into the beginning of the summer months, and the sun beat down on them mercilessly. Most of the men, even King Jonathan had stiripped off at least their plate armor. Some weren't even wearing any clothing on their upper bodies.

When they stopped to make camp that night, Daine could fell the animals moving back into the forest from all directions, thanking her for scouring the forest of the Binetreum. Along the ride, at least one hundred birds greeted her, and she was very happy the forest was getting back to normal.

Practicing her archery later that night, with only the light of the full moon to guide her, she kept a wary eye on the edge of the forest, not quiet trusting it, even after a full days worth of order restoring.

Numair and Onua were meditating. Daine hadn't even known that Onua was there until they were pitching camp and she'd seen Onua through the crowd.

Daine, having been keeping her senses aware that night, heard a twig snap behind her. In one motion, she quickly drew her bowstring back to her ear, and whipped around.

Her arrow was pointed at a young man, probably about her age. He didn't flinch when her finger tightened on the bowstring.

"What is your name?" she demanded, not relaxing her grip on the bow in the least.

He didn't reply.

"Who are you?" she demanded again, tightening her grip on the bowstring again.

"My name is... is Jakkar," he replied after a moments hesitation. "Is the King of Tortall here?"

Daine lowered her weapon, and set it on the ground. She brought her hand to her sword's hilt.

"What makes you think the King would be in such a place?" she laughed. "The King is sitting comfortably on his thrown in Corus."

He glanced at her. "I answered you truthfully, you could do me the same."

"Last name?" she inquired.

"My full name is Jakkar Inimul Shu."

Shu... she knew that name.

"Alright, I'll show you to the King, but I warn you, one wrong move and my sword will cut you down to size," she said. "Now, you walk ahead of me."

He stepped in front of her as she herded him from the edge of the wood to the center of the camp, stopping often to talk to friends of hers along the way. If he truely wanted to see the King, he'd be patient.

They reached the King's tent, and a guard nodded at Daine, signaling that she could enter. When Jakkar tried to follow and they stopped him, she said, "He's with me."

"Daine?" the King asked from a chair next to a small folding desk. "What can I do for you?"

Jakkar bowed quickly. Daine looked at him, remembering that two years ago she would have done the same.

"Jon, this is Jakkar Inimul Shu. He needs to see you, or so he says," Daine replied politely. "Should I ---"

"Shu? As in the legendary swordsman, Jakkar Inimul Shu?" Jonathan cut her off.

"You know him?" Daine asked, puzzled. If he were a "legendary swordsman" then she was sure she'd have heard of him.

"Yes, Daine. This is Jakkar Shu the greatest swordman in the world. He won the tournament on Champion Island two years ago. Show us your sword, Jakkar," Jonathan said.

Jakkar unclipped his sword sheath, and drew an insanely long and thin sword from inside it.

"I make my own swords," Jakkar said, seeing Daine's surprised look. "It is unbreakable."

Daine reached for the sword, and Jakkar offered it to her. She accepted, running her finger over the edge of the blade. It drew blood instantaneously, and she smiled. The sword was sharp, and if it was unbreakable, then it must be formidable.

"You beat the Lioness?" Daine asked absentmindedly, trying out a few practice swings with the sword.

Jakkar smiled. "Barely. It was a very close match."

"If I asked, could you forge me a sword?" Daine asked.

Jakkar looked surprised. "I suppose. I'd need your measurments, though."

Daine laughed, "No, that's alright. I'm quiet happy with the sword I have now."

She drew out her own sword. Jakkar took it, then he did something Daine had never dreamed he would.

He held the sword above his head, and green magic swirled around it. Jakkar screamed something that sounded remotely like "Unbreakable!" but she couldn't tell.

He handed the sword back to her, along with a smile.

"It will never break," he said.

Daine stared at him.

"Are you a mage?" she asked. "What robe?"

"I am," he replied. "Black robe."

"Funny, Numair's never mentioned you," Daine replied.

"He doesn't know me. He studied at the University in Carthak, I studied in the Yamani Islands."

"Oh," Daine said, feeling stupid. "Well I'm off to bed. When are we moving on?"

"Tomorrow morning, at dawn," the King replied. "Tomorrow is our last day riding. Then begins the war."

The man sat at the King of Tusaine's elbow. His hair was filled with braids, and many jewels adorned his body, on his toes, fingers, and around his neck. He wore silk robes of red.

"I grow bored," he commented. "When will the real fun begin?"

"All in due time, Ozorne," was the reply. "I grow restless as well. Jonathan is one day's ride from Drell. He will be there by this time tomorrow. Go get some rest. You will get your revenge on one Numair Salmal'in and Verdaine Sarrasri."

Ozorne stood, his beads knocking together.

"But I want to kill them now!" he screamed with rage. "Now!" he screamed again. The air around him glowed brightly.

"Restrain yourself, Ozorne. Remember, if you do as I wish," King Ain held up a clay figure of Ozorne, "I'll give this to you. After, and only after, Jonathan has died."

"Yes," Ozorne muttered as he walked away. "Emperor Ozorne is not someone that you want to toy with, my friend."

The spirits in the camp that morning were grim. The men all knew what was happening. They were going into battle agianst Tusaine, some for the second time in their lives.

Daine was among the grim. She was barely an adult, but she had already fought in two wars. And she wasn't even a rider or knight!

About two hours riding later, Jakkar found his way to Daine and Numair. He was ridding a horse that was black with a cresent moon shaped white spot on its forehead ---

"Dagger?" Daine asked surprised.

Jakkar looked at her strangely.

"Dagger is that you?" Daine repeated, reaching out with her Wild magic. She couldn't feel anything. "There's something wrong with your horse, Jakkar."

"What do you mean?" Jakkar asked.

"Numair," Daine asked, ignoring Jakkar. "What exactly are all of the abilities the Binetreum posess?"

"They can through acid, change their shape, become invisible, enter another being's body and control it, they can read, and they are fairly smart. They have magic dampeners in their very breath."

"How could you expell it from a body it has infiltrated?" Jakkar asked, catching on.

"I suppose you'd have to spread your magic into it's body and literally burn it to death."

Jakkar put both hands on the stallion's head, and Daine could see his emerald green Gift swirling around it.

The horse let out a sharp neigh that sounded like a strangled scream. Daine quickly put her hands ont othe horses neck, and searched the body for any injuries. She found a hole burnt in the stomach, and she healed it.

They continued this way for at least two minutes, finally Jakkar nodded at her, and took his hands away. Daine followed suit, pulling her hands away slowly, putting the finishing touches on healing a burned lung wall.

"Dagger, can you hear me?" she asked.

**Of course, **he replied, looking at her funnily. **Why wouldn't I be able to?**

"No reason."

They rode in silence from then on. After another hour or two of hard riding, they stopped for their midday break, and to eat their midday meal.

Daine was eating with the other men when she noticed that Jakkar wasn't there. Frowning, she finished her meal, and went looking for him, asking the animals for help along the way. With the help on an eagle soaring high overhead, she found him in no time at all.

He was in a clearing, a good hundred yards from the camp. She couldn't see him, but she could hear him, after reforming her ears to those of a bat. He was practicing swordsplay.

She entered the clearing silently, they way she and Numair walked when they were on their journey's together. He apparently heard her though, as he turned and glared at her.

"What?" he demanded.

"I was just looking for you," Daine replied firmly, not even flinching at the harshness of his voice. "You could be slightly more civil, by the way. It's not like I've walking in on you naked or anything."

He turned his gaze to the ground. "I don't like people watching when I practice."

He took a few swings with his customly made sword. Daine couldn't even see them.

Of course, she reminded herself, he is a legendary swordsman, and I do have much more to learn about the art of swordsmanship.

His back was turned to her now, and he was practicing his swings again, against a replica of him. It was a similicron, like the kind Numair made.

So this is how he got so good, she thought, practicing against himself. If he's so good, then his similicron must be almost the same.

"Daine, Jakkar," Numair said, entering the clearing silently just as Daine had. "We're leaving now."

They reached Fort Drell by sundown. They could see it on the horizon from the makeshift fort that the men that had arrrived before them had created. It was built like Port Legann, with six solid rock and wood walls, dotted with guard towers.

"It was built by mages, Daine," Numair told her, as she gazed in wonder at the huge fort before them. "Building was begun on it ten years ago, and these men, along with some of the lesser mages, finished construction. It's just as good as Fort Drell."

As they rode in, Daine could see that there was three catapults atop each wall, with a ready supply of boulders and liquid fire close by. The walls were walkable. The inside of the secondary fort looked like Legann as well, there was the large gate they'd rode in through, made out of solid oak with three iron locks, top, bottom, and middle.

There was a large courtyard in the center, filled with high growing trees. Animals that lived in the fort gretted her, including some birds and squirrels in the trees.

After climbing the wall, Daine saw that there was multiple defenses to slow any riders from the newly built fort: trenches filled with quicksand as the first line, large X shaped sharpened wooden crosses as the second to gut any horses that tried to jump, and a long stretch of thick liquid that was filled with what Numair called "Fireweed." It sizzled threateningly, large bubbles of gas popped every now and then, and in stunk badly.

"Daine!" Tkaa yelled happily, running to them with Kitten in his pouch. "We've already been here a week, what took you?"

"Oh just the fact that I had to ride with the pace of a slow moving army," Daine replied. "Tkaa, there's someone I'd like you to meet," she guestered to Vindine, who'd caught up to them the night before.

"Vindine?" Tkaa asked. "Is that you?"

"Tkaa? I can't believe this!" Vindine said, settling on the ground. "You didn't tell me you knew Tkaa," he added to Daine.

"I didn't think you'd know him."

Vindine walked to Tkaa, and embraced him.

"When we were separated in the Divine Realms, brother, I never dreamed I'd see you again," Vindine said after a few seconds, breaking away from Tkaa as he said it.

"You're a basilik?" Daine asked. "You can't be, I'd have reconized you."

"No, he is a Enetrian," Tkaa replied. "He is much older than me, at least by ten centuries. He is an Immortal that humans know little, if nothing, about. I call him brother because he is the closest Immortal species besides my own people that are related to the basilik."

Now that she looked, Tkaa and Vindine did look slightly the same. But she'd ponder that later, for now, all she wanted was a hot bath and some sleep.


	5. Tusaine Strikes

(A/N:) Hello, friends. It's me. I really feel that I don't have to say my name this time, partly because I believe most of you know it, and partly because I'm lazy. All you really need to know is that this is the first battle of the most controversial war in the history of Tortall.

So keep reading. I mean, come on people! It's chapter four! You can't stop after you've read chapter three! It's unsportsman-like.

(End of A/N)

4. Tusaine Strikes

It was a nice night that night. Daine was feeling refreshed after a bath and plenty of sleep, and had voulenteered to take sentry duty on the fort walls.

Leaning against the wall, she remembered the events that had unfolded after she was brought back from the Divine Realms last year. How the battlefield had looked at the end, with all the blackened corpses bloated and stinking in the heat of the previous summer.

With a sigh, she put those thoughts to rest. She was in a new war now, she didn't need to be remembering old ones. Besides, it was taking her away from her sentry duty.

Suddenly, from across the fort, a flare went up. The sign of an attack. Shouts arose after the flare had been shot up, and Daine could see solders flocking to the gates, archer doing the same, except to the walls.

Daine took a quick scan of her side of the fort, noting that no one was there. She took off running along the wall, toward the othere side. Huffing and puffing, she finally reached it, to assemble with the many archers already there.

Picking a target out of the hundreds of men in Tusaine's colors rushing the walls, she loosed an arrow. It hit it's attended target, knocking him off his horse.

"For Tortall!" she yelled to the cheers of the men on the wall. Now the fighting began in earnest, arrows flying into the crowd below. To her left, she saw a patch of earth the size of one of the gates flare with black fire; Numair.

Drawing back her bowstring again, she lanced an arrow through the eye slits of a knight near one of the gates. She heard loud swearing to her left, and glanced there. John was next to her, clutching his stomach.

Swearing along with him, she knocked him down, just as an arrow was about to hit him.

"Damn, do you have no sense?" she demanded. "You don't stop to clutch your stomach when your not injured!"

She screamed a few more times, then helped him to his feet. They both began arching again, picking off targets as they picked them. John was good, not as good as her, but good.

One of the gates below opened, and Duke Gareth rode out, followed by at least sixty armed knights. More cheers arose form the archers, who were already fatigued.

That's when the Tusainian archers decided to actually get in the fight. Instead of the Tortallan archers having complete control of the battle field, Tusaine was slowly turning the tides. Three vollys of arrows later, and ten men had fallen. At that rate, half the men would be gone in no time. Daine needed to find some way to turn the tides back around...

There! The catapults, they were the only chance.

"You!" she said, grabbing John by the nape of his neck and hauling him from the wall. "Can you opperate a catapult?"

"Of couse," he replied. "But there are none on this wall!"

"I'll take care of that. Follow me," she ordered, running along the wall, John on her heels.

Reaching one of the catapults, Daine and John carefully loaded two liquid fire globs into it, and put two more into the reload pocket. Daine placed her bow and quivver onto the machine, and shape-shifted to a huge wild mountain-horse of the East.

John harnessed her with some reigns he'd found in a shed nearby, and she started pulling the machine toward the wall where the main fighting was happening.

Twice she had to stop to rest. Catapults were meant to be moved by two or three horses, not one, however big and powerful that one was.

They reached the wall, and Daine shape-shifted back to her normal self, taking care in shaping clothing around herself this time. If John noticed she was naked at first, he gave no notice. He was busy loading a case of liquid fire into the launcher.

He pulled the rope, after carefully aiming the catapult at an area away from Tortall's knights. It hit with the force of a small meteor, having been fired from a high height.

The men below burst into flame, screming and falling while clawing on their armor, with had become a heat conductor for the fire, literally singeing them to death.

The tides had turned. Tortall was again regaining control of this battle from atop their new fort, which looked like a giant D from overhead.

John loaded another liquid fire skin into the catapult, and pulled a second rope. It hit again, knocking twenty knights off their feet and to their demise. John _did _know how to opperate a catapult.

Tusaine was retreating. The last to leave were some of the braver, or stupider, archers, who tried to pick off a few more targets before retreating.

Daine was watching as one of the last archers carefully lined up a shot. She saw him loose the arrow, and didn't think. She just ran. The arrow was intended for a man who had already turned his back on the battlefield, who was making his way to the stairs.

Daine jumped sideways, using her speed to get in front of the arrow before it would hit the man. With a scream of pain, her vision went red, then black, and she dropped to the ground...

"You have failed me, Ozorne."

"I didn't think that the Tortallan's would have such a powerful and ready fort already built," Ozorne replied angrily. "Besides, I at least am trying to do something. While I am in my study finding ways to outwit the Tortallan army, you sit on your throne all day, ordering people around, even me!"

"You will hold your togue in the presence of your King."

"I am the one and only Emperor Mage of Carthak!" Ozone screamed furiously. "If anything, you should hold _your _togue in _my _presence!"

"You are no longer the Emperor Mage of Carthak. There is no Emperor Mage. The Emperor of Carthak is named Kaddar. Not Ozorne."

"Yes... but I will become the Emperor Mage once more! That was our deal," Ozorne retorted, subduing his anger.

The large door on the opposite side of the King's chambers opened. The King's brother, Duke Hilam entered, looking magnificent in even more jewels than Ozorne. Upon seeing Ozorne his lip curled into a sneer of superiority, and he bowed before his King.

"Cousin," he said, speaking in his hard voice. "I beg that you let me take over the position of top general in this war. I fought in the last war, I know how the enemy thinks. I can secure our rightful vally from the hands of Tortall. I can keep the vally in the lands of Tusaine."

"I agree with you, cousin," the King replied. "But for now Ozorne will be keeping the position of general. He knows things of the enemy as well, having hosted them in his palace two years prior to now. He gets one more chance, and if he fails, you take over."

"Yes, my King," Hilam said, standing to his feet and bowing to the King of Tusaine once more. "But I must warn you, Ozorne has proven... untrustable... in the past."

He left the room. Ozorne started toward the door, intending to follow and punish the boy for speaking badly of the Emperor Mage of Carthak.

Tusaine's King squeezed the clay doll in his hand. Ozorne stopped just next to the door, falling to his knees and clutching his stomach.

"Damn you!" he screamed furiously. "I am the Emperor Mage!"

"Take him away."

Two guards sunk out of the shadows near the King's throne, walking briskly toward Ozorne. They took spots on either side of him, simultaneously clamping strong hands onto both his arms.

"Take him to the chamber," the King drawled lazily. "Tell the torture master to remind him his place in the palace."

The guards led Ozorne away. He was glimmering with his dampened Gift. The King was taking no chances with the former Emperor Mage. He knew of his power, and had his mages constantly pouring dampeners into the palace, so that Ozorne could not use his awesome Gift against him.

"Ozorne. How the mighty have fallen," the King sighed, playing with his jewl encrusted wizards rod, a Gift from the long-dead Duke Roger of Cont'e. "I carry out your wishes Roger, but you have ordered me to work with unusual people..."

Light flooded in through Daine's half opened eyes. She grimaced in pain, felling the effects of being hit in the chest, right above her breasts, by a arrow. Pulling back her sheets, she stood, and almost fell to the ground due to dizziness.

"Goddess, is it really that bad?" Daine wondered aloud. "I thought it only hit my shoulder..." she trailed off, looking out the window.

No cleanup crew had gone out to collect the bodies of the enemy and burn them. They lay there, most of them already bloated beyond human reconition, some shapless blackened balls.

"Merciful Mother," she muttered. "How long have I been out for?"

Spying a tray laden with food on a bedside table, Daine realized her great hunger. She shoved as much food into her mouth as it could hold, swallowing right after chewing. Hungrily, she began to eat more.

Seeing also a pitcher of water and a glass next to it, she picked up the entire pitcher. Pain ripped through her chest, and she dropped the pitcher with a cry of pain.

A maid rushed into the room, looking tousled in her black and white outfit, her hair, which had been up in a bun was frayed and poking out everywhere.

"I'm sorry," Daine sobbed. "I was just so thirsty, and I didn't think to pour it into the cup..."

"No, It's alright, please. It's my job, dearie," the maid replied, mustering a weak smile while taking out a dry rag. "I believe Master Numair is looking for you."

Daine hobbled out of the room, clutching her chest. The wound wasn't so horribly bad, and it would heal in time, but until then she was in for the ride from hell. Almost every physical motion a human could do with their arms involved some using of the muscle in their chest as well.

Onua was sitting in a wooden bench outside the room, kneeling and praying to the Goddess.

Daine tapped her on the shoulder.

"Daine! Oh thank you, Mother," she cried, wrapping Daine in a tight hug.

Daine tried not to wince, but it escaped her lips anyway. Onua drew away, looking worried.

"Daine?..."

"I'm fine, Onua," Daine replied with a small smile. "It just hurts a little."

"It would be fair strange if a wound _didn't _hurt somewhat," Onua laughed.

Daine stopped walking suddenly, quick flashes came to her mind. It was Ozorne, in his human form, being dragged away from a room that was lit brightly by many torches, and wid open windows. Out the window she could just barely see a glimmer of water. The Drell River!

"Daine?" Onua asked, her laughter replaced with a worried look once more.

"Please," Daine gasped. "I'm fine... get Numair." She crumpled into a nearby bench, breathing heavily. Ozorne was alive! In the Drell River vally! But how? She had killed him with her badger's claw.

She dug the claw out from under her nightshirt, looking at it. She remembered vividly how she'd killed Ozorne. She'd jabbed the claw into his throat and ripped horizontally, across his artery.

Fast footsteps aproached; Numair and Onua.

Daine sprung up, clinging to Numair desperatly.

"Onua, please leave," Numair said quietly. "My student wishes to speak to me privatly."

Onua walked away. Numair stood with Daine leaning against him until her footsteps had receeded away down the hall, then said, "We'll talk in my study."

He led the way to his study, Daine following closly behind.

As soon as they'd reached the room, Numair put a magic barrier around it, making sure their conversation wouldn't be heard.

"Ozorne is alive," Daine said, now on the brink of tears.

"Daine, how can that be?" Numair asked, stripping off his robes as he spoke.

"I don't know... I had a vision. Ozorne is working with the King of Tusaine. He was being dragged away from the King's chambers... I need a map of the river vally."

Numair took a map out of his desk.

"Here," he said softly, replacing his sweat soaked shirt for a clean one. Daine took the map, and scanned it.

"The vision I had was of a building on top of these hills," she pointed to the hills above the river on the other side.

"We have to show this to the King," Numair commented. "I believe he's planning a counter-attack to the one that happened just last night. Let's go."

They climbed down a flight of stairs to the war chamber, entering to the surprise of Jonathan, and the Lioness.

"Numair? Daine?" Jonathan asked. "Well, I don't know why your here, but I was just going to send a servant to fetch you anyways. Daine, I need you in paticular."

"Yes, Highness?" she asked, inclining her head in a bow.

"That would be 'Jon', Daine," Jonathan replied. "Alright, back to buisness."

He walked to the front of the room, where a large, detailed map was pinned to the wall.

"My Uncle and I have created a counter-attack plan," he indicated the board. "Raoul and my Uncle will lead the armies through this forest," he pointed at the forest that lay one hundred yards away from the northern wall of the fort. "And attack Fort Drell on its weak side. Now, For Drell has how many catapults on each wall?" he looked at John who was prestent. Jacob was not.

"Three on each wall, sire," John replied, walking up to join the King. He pointed at the three walls of Fort Drell that were nearest Fort Tortall. "Three here, here, and here."

"Right," Jonathan continued. "We need someone that can shape-shift to fly over there and take out six of those nine catapults."

"Me?" Daine asked, surprised.

"Who else?" the King asked.

"Me," Numair replied, "I can shape-shift."

"We need someone who is a little... erm... better at it than you, Numair," the King said flatly. "Young Daine here can change different parts of her body at different times, no one would expect it. Plus you are," he looked up at Numair's towering frame. "Slightly to large for such a covert opperation."

"If I do this, how will I get word to Raoul and Duke Gareth?" Daine asked, knowing she would do it.

"John has told us there's a large fire bin in the corner of the fort, here," Jonathan pointed at the corner of the fort nearest the forest. "Raoul will have a man scale a tree, and he will report when he sees the fire flare up. The enemy lights the fire at regular times, to signal to the other sentries at the fort that everything is alright on their side of the wall. If this plan is carried out with painstaking care, it is perfect."

"But... if they light it regularily, then won't there be a schedule, and what of the sentries on that wall?" Daine asked.

"Ah, your friend Vindine has voulenteered to take care of them," the King replied.

Vindine nodded at her from across the room.

"When can I go?"


	6. Tortall Strikes Back

(A/N:) It's me! Again! I know how you've all come to either love or hate me, so maybe I should shut up.

But that's not my style. I like to talk, see, so this is going to be an unusually long Author Note that has a bunch of usless Shit it it. Just a bunch of Fucking useless Shit. Understand? Do you Fucking understand? Good.

Funny story, today at lunch we had hamburgers in school. My friend Dan took Zac's burger while he wasn't looking and threw it like outside. It was funny, but Zac apparently didn't think so. I guess he was hungry of something.

Anyway he Fucking spazed his Fucking head off, and actually screamed the following:

**_"Give me my FUCKING burger!"_**

Even funnier was the fact that the cafeteria person was like right there. And then the cafeteria person heard him, as well as half of the Fucking lunch room. She sent him to the office, and he got detention, and we all laughed our Fucking heads off. It was so Fucking funny.

So, was that funny or what? Answer this question now in your heads and later in your reviews. And you better be reviewing. It's only right. I've probably reviewed half of your stuff... or not. But that's not the point! The point is that you really shouldn't read something on fanfiction without reviewing it! Understand? Good.

And yes, I realize I may have a teensy problem with swearing. I'm working on that. Don't give up on the reading, okay?

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Oh, now I'm just babbling.

More action ahead. Keep reading!

(End of A/N)

5. Tortall Strikes Back

Daine dropped the blanket from around her shoulders, turning into an owl, a perfect form for night-time flying.

Taking wing, she flew strait toward the enemy fort, using the silence of the owl's wings to her advantage. Owls were made to be silent, as hunters of the smallest rodents, then needed to be quiet.

She was flying over the enemy's defenses now. The crosses set to gut horses, the pits filled with sharpened spikes, and the fireweed. The thick liquid called fireweed sizzled loudly in the ears of the owl, who had exceptional hearing.

Nearing the fort, Daine looked for the wall she was to land on. Having a crazy idea, she morphed to a dragon.

Now if she could work the invisibility... yes! She was now a dragon, invisible to a man's eye, and on a dangerous mission. Daine landed on the solid wall of Fort Drell, seeing her first target.

A whip of her powerful tail finished off the first two catapults; she wouldn't use fire until she had to start the fire. Taking flight again, she hit another of the catapults with a steel coiled leg. It broke into peices.

Finding two more, she destroyed them quickly, and moved on to the last one. Hitting this last one would allow her to return to Fort Tortall. Suddenly she felt her power drain. She returned to her human shape, falling the few feet that had separated her from the top of the wall.

Swearing, she got up. How could shape-shifting have worn off so fast? Sure she was injured, but she was still as strong with her magic as ever. It was insane!

Staggering she made her way over to the last of the catapults. How would she destroy this last one? She couldn't leave it; she'd seen first-hand the damage one catapult could create.

She remembered the elephants that had been in Ozorne's mangarie two years earlier. They were huge animals, with tough, grey, skin and powerful muscles. Focusing, she became the elephant.

After her transformation, the floor beneath her creaked threateningly, but didn't break. Walking slowly and with great care, she snuck to the catapult.

Lifting her muscular trunk, she slammed it into the launching part of the catapult, breaking it to peices. Suddenly the floor beneath her gave sligtly! Her back left leg had fallen through the floor.

Praying to the Mother Goddess, she turned into her human self, and when no screams invaded her ears, she knew that no one had seen her leg. Jumping up, she ran to the firebin in the corner of the fort.

Looking around desperatly, she saw a torch, with cloth wrapped at the end, soaked in gasoline. Seeing a torch, she put it inside the fire. It flared to life, and she dropped it into the bin.

Shouts arose from behind her, and she ran to the edge of the wall. With great fear, she jumped, trying to shape-shift into the first bird that came to her mind --- a sparrow.

Stupid! she screamed at herself. The sparrow was meant for quickness and agility, it was no good for slowing a fall. She'd have to work with it, though, she was to close to the ground to shape-shift again.

Flapping crazily, she leveled off an inch from the ground. Breathing a sigh of relief, she shape-shifted to a owl once more, and landed in the forest.

"Raoul?" she asked once she'd became a human again.

"Daine? Where's the signal?" Raoul demanded from the darkness.

Daine smiled. "Oh, trust me. You'll see it right about... now."

Behind her the entire left side of the fort burst into flame. She'd sprayed gasoline all down the side of the wall while she'd been looking for the torch, and it seemed it'd worked.

"Go!" Raoul screamed. "Go! Go!"

Hundreds of men swarmed from the woods to the fort, where the men were frantically throwing water on the fire, as the mages tried desperatly to blow it out with wind, and summon rain.

Daine followed them forward, grabbing a sword from a dead solder as she ran. A full grown knight, with plate armor stepped in her path. Using skills taught to her by Alanna and Tknombi Deminio, she attacked ruthlessly, remembering Alanna's saying of "Staying on the offense is the best Defense."

The knight blocked half of her blows with his shield, the few that got through his defense only hit plate armor. Angered, Daine attacked in earnest, switching to using both hands instead of just one.

The knight stepped back with each powerful swing of her arms, and she caught him off guard as he stumbled over a fallen companion. She plunged her sword into his shoulder, cutting up and out.

The knight stared bleakly at his stump of an arm, then collapsed on the ground.

Daine saw Jakkar nearby, and joined him in fending off three men. As she ran up, he downed two of them, and began work on the third, his mouth in a grim line. Daine turned away, attacking a new opponent.

Her opponent was but a footsolder, with none of the strong plate armor of a full knight. Ducking under his badly placed and slow swings, she hit him with the flat side of her blade on the top of the head. He fell like a sack of bricks.

An arrow lanced by her shoulder, missing her by millimeters. She glanced up, and stared at the burning wall of the fort. There! Hidden behind the flickering flames, were three archers.

Daine glanced up at the trees, seeing one of their own archers. She signaled frantically up toward the wall of the fort.

The young man she was guestering to looked up, and drew his bow. Daine turned back to the fight, just in time to parry a powerful swing by an enemy. Thank the Gods that her sword held against his unbelievably powerful swing!

He muscles screamed, the head throbbed. Her sword was quivvering dangerously, shaking almost uncontrollably. Remembering the two daggers she always kept at her back, Daine quickly grabbed one, and flicked it into the eyeslits of her enemy, just as George Cooper had taught her.

From somewhere behind her she heard a battle cry, and looked back to see her mentor, Tknombi, down a knight in full armor with a simple roundhouse kick. Turning, he caught an arrow in midair, breaking it with a squeeze of his powerful fingers.

Daine turned back to her fight. Blood was oozing out of the helmet of her opponent, but he wasn't dead. Reaching up, she tugged her dagger out of his eyeslit, horrified to see an eye pinned to the end of it.

She dropped the dagger in disgust, stabbing the man in the stomach, she turned again. She rolled to the ground just as a huge knight, about the size of Raoul swung a giant double-headed battle ax at her. It hit the ground an inch from her head.

Rolling again, she evaded another swing of his second ax. Kicking out with a trained leg, she brought him to the ground. He threw his battle-ax at her. Leaping to the side, she got nicked in the arm by the sharp blade, and it bled.

Coldly, she picked a discarded bow up off the ground, along with an arrow. The knight was sturggling to get up, and was the victim to his own battle-ax, which was pinning down his upper body.

Daine stepped onto his chest, pulled back the bow so that the tip of the arrow was actually inside his eyeslit, and fired. He screamed painfully, then lay still.

Sensing someone behind her, Daine grabbed the battle-ax off of her victory, and swung in a compete circle.

Hitting something, she let go of the ax, and grabbed her sword up off the ground once more. Her attacker, the one she'd injured by swinging the ax, was bigger than the knight she'd just beat.

He swung his longsword at her with deadly accuracy, hitting her sword, which she brought up to block just in time, with a brain-rattling hit. She fell to the ground, and he advanced on her, swinging viciously. She had no time to get up off the ground or attack, only defend.

Out of nowhere, Raoul jumped on top of the knight, dragging him to the ground. The knight was bigger than Raoul, but that didn't mean he was stronger!

They wrestled for a few minutes, and somehow Raoul got his enemy's helmet off. He stared into his eyes, and then hit him in the temple with his sword.

"Thanks, Raoul!" Daine called, allowing him to help her to her feet.

"Can't let my favorite little friend die in battle, can I?" he asked, laughing.

An arrow lanced into his back. He fell to the ground, swearing. Daine grabbed up the bow she'd used on her last opponent, hunting for an arrow. She found one, and jumped to the side just as an arrow would have struck her.

Looking around, she couldn't see any archers. Frantically, she fitted the arrow to the bow and looked. There! He was behind a wood pile, on the ground.

Setting her face in a grim line, she fired her arrow. And she missed. It was impossible! Daine, possibly the best archer in all the Eastern Lands, had missed! Angrily, she fitted another discarded arrow into her bow and fired again.

The arrow went right through the archer. But it didn't hurt him at all!

"Sorcery," Daine whispered, whipping around in time to shoot another arrow at the woodpile opposite the one she'd been shooting at. Her target fell this time.

"Raoul!" she screamed, falling to her knees near her friend. "Are you okay?"

"Um... do I look okay?" Raoul demanded. "Pull the arrow out of my back," he ordered, "Then moisten this cloth with brandy and stick it in the wound."

Daine did as she was told. She walked around, straddled Raoul's back, and pulled with all her strength. The arrow came out easily. Raoul had been waring plate armor, but the archer had hit him in a softer spot in the armor. The archer must have been good.

Daine wet the cloth that Raoul gave her with brandy, and plugged it into the wound. Raoul climbed to his feet slowly, testing his back.

"Not bad, Daine," he said, and picked up his fallen sword. "Now back to buisness."

Daine laughed, and picked up her own sword. She glanced around, looking for her next opponent. Instead she saw Duke Gareth screaming at the men to retreat.

"RETREAT!" he screamed riding by Daine and Raoul on his mare. "They've moved the other three catapults to this side! They're loaded with liquid fire! RETREAT!"

Daine didn't have to be told twice. Dropping her borrowed sword, she ran into the forest with the other men, to return to Fort Tortall.

"You have redeemed yourself, Ozorne," King Ain drawled. "I'm so proud of you."

"It was a great victory, sire," Ozorne said, playing the obedient servant-boy for the time being. He didn't want a trip back to the torture master any time soon.

"No, Ozorne. It was a lucky victory," King Ain said coldly. "You cost us the lives of many troops. They will be replaced, our main army is riding to Drell as we speak, but still, if they get held up, we may be outnumbered. You won, but an entire wall of the fort was burned by a singal girl."

"No!" Ozorne screamed. "Was it her?"

"Yes."

The doors opened, and Duke Hilam entered, followed by Count Jemis.

"Brother," Jemis said, bowing. "The main army sends word that they will arrive within the next day. Our spy in the Tortallan fort reports that there are no plans of battle being made for the time being. They are recouperating."

"If I may make a suggestion?" Duke Hilam asked.

"Go on," King Ain replied. "Put your military genius to work, brother."

"If we perhaps used the immortals, then they would be more fearful of the Tusaine forces," Hilim replied. "The Ogres are just waiting to be set loose. Tortall denied them the right to farm in the plains beyond the vally. They would like nothing more than to show their support for a King who will give them farmland."

"An interesting proposition..." King Ain considered. "We'll use them when the main army arrives."

"I have a suggestion," Ozorne said loudly. "I know a handful of people that will wet their pants to see me come back to life and scorch their front lines. Two in paticular."

"No. The spy says that the girl, Daine says that she saw you in a vision. She suspects something," Jemis replied smugly. "I think we will wait to play the 'back from the dead' scene."

King Ain raised his hand for silence. "Hilim? You have something to say?"

"Yes," Duke Hilam said thoughtfully. "If we were to attack the Queen's Rider's barracks in paticular, the army and archers of Tortall may not get there in time to stop us from at least burning down some of their barracks... if we attack the barracks, the men from Fort Tortall will not reach us in time to stop us from destroying the Rider camp! They are further away then they look on the map, or so the spy says. The Rider camp is actually fifity yards from the fort. If we can attack swiftly..." he let his thought trail.

"Wait a second!" Ozorne cried. "What if _both _the fort _and _the Rider camp were to be attacked at the same time? The army cannot be two places at once. And which building will mean more to them? The fort, of course! They will abandon the Rider camp, and the men with it!"

"That just might work!" Hilam yelled. "That's ingenious! A perfect plan. Idiot. The plan will work for a while, but do you think that King Jonathan will throw his wife's precious 'Riders' into the wind? No."

"Don't be so quick to judge," King Ain warned. "That plan just might work. If the fort was to be attacked slightly before the Rider camp..."

"Of course!" Jemis cried. "Why didn't I see it! We attack the fort, wait for most of the men to get to that side of the fort to defend it, then we raid the Rider camp. It's perfect!"

"What of our catapults?" Hilam demanded. "The Rider buildings will fall much faster if liquid fire is burning them to the ground."

"We are reconstructing them," Jemis replied. "They will be done by the time the main army arrives."

"Then we will strike when the main army arrives," King Ain said. "Until then, we rest and relax, as Tortall does now."

Daine trudged back into the fort with the rest of the men, throug the main gate. They had won, in her eyes, but in the eyes of Duke Gareth they had lost. He had done an honorable thing, by retreating his men when he saw they had loaded the three remaining catapults with liquid fire.

"Why does King Ain toy with us?" Raoul muttered. "We were nice enough not to go into their country and slaughter them. He makes me mad."

"He wants the vally for some reason," Daine replied. "I can't understand why. It's just like the Dunlath river vally, nothing much different. It isn't that great."

"Are you kidding?" John asked. "To lose that piece of land would be to lose hundreds of resources. Such as ---"

"Yeah, we already heard it," Daine cut him off. "Raoul hasn't though."

Raoul glared at her as she made her escape from John and his speech of why the Drell River Vally was so great, and how many "resources" it gave us.


	7. Secret of the Shang

(A/N:) Hey everyone. Number29 here, with an author note.

And this, as opposed to the last one, will be extremely short. Here's a head's up:

The next chapter may contain violence (V), sexual content (SC), nudity (N), and maybe even Language! (L) and not the good kind of language! The bad kind!

Remember kids, this is a PG-13 rated book. If you are under 13 leave now. What you are about to hear is for 13 year-olds and up! Not 12 and under-year-olds!

Have a nice day.

(End of A/N)

6. The Secret of the Shang

The fort was taking a well deserved rest after the battle against Tusaine at Fort Drell. The only events were the men lazing about and the King devising battle plans every day at noon. All else was quiet.

The Queen's Riders had arrived the day before, the 7th, 8th, and 9th divisions. The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd were riding from Corus today. The army had their regular daily practices, of course, but the drill sargents let them off early.

Daine was busy practicing archery by herself in the fort practice yards, between the actuall building part of the fort, and the barracks, when Tknombi found her.

With a sigh she put down her bow and walked to her teacher.

"Yes, Tknombi?" she asked.

"I know you think you're good at fighting, but you are about to fight a powerful enemy, for the second time," he replied.

Daine froze. "What?"

"Nothing. What is important is that I teach you absolutely everything I know while we are at his break between battles. We cannot do what we are about to do within the walls of the fort. Follow me, and I will teach you the secret of the Shang..."

Ozorne bowed, curling his lip as soon as his head had gone down. The King could not see his look of superiority if only the floor saw it. The King's patience with Ozorne was at its end, and Ozorne often wondered why he was kept around.

"If I am such a burden, Ain," he sneered at King Ain. "Then why do you flatter youself by making sure I am always in your presence? Why haven't you beheaded, or cast me out yet?"

"Your orders are from me. My orderes are from Duke Roger of Cont'e."

"Impossible!" Ozorne replied. "'Duke' Roger has been dead for at least twenty years!"

"It is possible to communicate to those already gone," King Ain replied icily. "As it is possible for someone from the Realms of the Dead to communicate to the mortal realms. If you have the Gift, it is but a simple procedure."

"A simple procedure?" Ozorne demanded. "If it were so simple, it would be in thousands of texts, but it is not! I think I of all people would know if there were some spell to communicate between realms."

"Ah, but you _do_, Ozorne."

"And which spell is that?" Ozorne demanded. "Is it the spell of the flying faries?"

"It is none other than the spell used to open portals between realms."

"Impossible."

"That's what you think," King Ain replied, shrugging. "I do not think the same as you, my mind is simple. I believe what I see, and I have seen this."

"A likely story," Ozorne muttered. "I suggest we attack the Rider camp as soon as possible. I've heard from our spy that the other units of Jonathan's army are moving toward Drell."

"All in good time, Ozorne. All in good time," the King replied.

"What is this 'secret of the Shang', Tknombi?" Daine asked as they rode down the road to the west. "You never mentioned a 'Shang secret' when you were training me."

"That is because I did not think someone who had not began training when they were young would progress so far," he replied, urging his gelding forward. "Oh how wrong I was..."

"Are you saying I'm good?" Daine demanded. "I can beat folk trained with sword, dagger, bow, and wrestling, but I could _never _beat a Shang."

"Don't be so sure. The only reason I beat you before we went riding to Drell was because I use the Shang secret."

"What is the secret of the Shang?" Daine asked again.

"You know that Shang is the art of fighting with all weapons, but more importantly, with your own two hands," Tknombi said. "But the Shang style of fighting also largly relies on the use of speed. Without speed, your attacks can be as strong as you are, but they will never reach their target."

"Yes," Daine said impatiently. "But what's the secret?"

"The secret of the Shang is speed. It is by using my speed that I beat you last time. Think," he replied, "When you were about to step-kick from my neck up, did you see my arm move to block it? Did you see me knock you to the ground? No."

"You're right," Daine replied softly, remembering:

Daine had roundhouse kicked him in the chest, sending him reeling over his own tunic. Then he'd regained balance, and ran at her using his exceptional normal speed. It was when she became confident that she would win that he had won with a flick of his wrist.

"I can do that too?"

"Of course. All the Shang can do it."

"Teach me."

"Be prepared Ozorne. Fail me with this attack on the Rider camp, and I will crush you," King Ain warned Ozorne, shaking the clay model of him.

Ozorne's stomach began to hurt.

"Just a taste, Ozorne. I could pierce your eyes with needles, I could put you underwater, I could ---"

"I know what you can do with it!" Ozorne screamed back. "I am the Emperor Mage of Carthak! Do you know what mage means? I am one of the greatest sorcerers in the world! If you didn't have these damn dampeners in here, you're precious clay Ozorne doll would already have failed in its purpose. A flick of my fingers could bring it to me!"

"Hold your tongue!" King Ain cried. "My patience with you is truely reaching its end! One wrong move, Ozorne ---" he squeezed the doll. "--- And you will regret it dearly. You were brought back for one purpose. Do not fail me!"

He made the model of Ozorne bow. The real Ozorne bent to his knees, inclining his head.

"I cannot wait until I am back in Carthak!" Ozorne screamed as he left the room.

"Nor can I!" Ain shouted after him, clutching the wizard rod tightly.

Ozorne walked through the entry-way to Fort Drell, glowing with his Gift, though he was unable to use it just yet. The Tusaine Raiders were saddled and ready.

Ozorne stalked to the horse that had been made ready for him, climbing into the saddle. The very air around him seemed to seethe with energy. Most of the men near him backed away, that is, all the men but Duke Hilam of Tusaine.

"Can we get this moving, Ozorne?" he asked impatiently. "I like you, must redeem myself in the eyes of my brother. I started this war twenty years ago, and now I must finish it," then he added to the war-mages near him, "Watch him like a hawk does a rabbit. He may use his Gift, but the second he looks as if he is going to turn on us, or if he does turn on us, take him out."

"Ride!" Ozorne screamed at the Raiders.

"Fool. They do not respect you," Hilam laughed. "You have caused them to many casualties. This is how you do it," he cleared his throat. "RIDE DAMN YOU! MUST I REMIND YOU THAT I AM A DUKE, AND CAN HAVE YOU DUMPED INTO THE FIREWEED THRENCH?!"

The Raiders began moving. Of course, the last part was just for show. They began moving at the word "ride". None of them dared ride after he'd said "damn you," none of them were that stupid.

They rode out the gate that faced the Drell river. Riding along the bank, they rode right into the forest to the south of Fort Drell, using the same attack plan they'd used in their first attack. Except the first attack had been up in the forest to the north.

Hilam haulted the company. Nodding to a archer near the front, he guestered to the path in front of them. The archer strung an arrow in his bow, and stepped onto the path.

Looking down both sides, he lowered his bow, then quickly raised it, and fired it at the skyline. For a few seconds there was silence, then the sound of a man falling out of a pine tree could be heard throughout the area.

"Tortallan," Hilam snarled. "Bring your so-called King Jonathan a message. Tell him the Tusaine army is coming. Tell him they will be there long before his army. Tell him his death is coming, and Duke Hilam wants his head."

The Tortallan spat in Hilam's face.

Angered, Hilam drew his sword as the Tortallan stood rigid faced before him. With one rapid swipe of his blade arm, he cut the archers head off. Ozorne watched, horrified as the head rolled into the middle of the road, and haulted, balancing on the back of the skull and the stump of what remained of the neck. It looked like it'd been planted there.

"Put some arrows in his body," Hilam commanded. The same archer stepped forward and put two arrows into the Tortallan's back, then grabbed the Tortallan's own dagger, and burried it into the top of his disembodied head.

"Very good. Move forward."

The Raiders continued riding, going over the road and into the other side. That's where they ran into Jonathan's Champion. The Lioness.

Daine focused as hard as she could. She'd already been training for at least two hours, and she still hadn't achieved this "secret of the Shang" that Tknombi spoke of almost casually.

"This is impossible!" she cried, falling to her knees frustratedly. "You are working me to death, Tknombi. I _need _a rest."

Suddenly the trees along the side of the clearing burst open. From the rupture poured a small escort of ten knights, all in full armor.

"What's going on?" Daine demanded.

"Oh, Lady Daine!" one cried, making her blush. "We're glad we found you. The Lioness sent word by messanger bird that her dispatch has encountered a group of twenty Tusaine Raiders, almost all on horseback. She needs reinforcements. There's only three of them there besides her!"

"Great Mother," Daine murmered, getting to her feet despite her exhaustion. Tknombi handed her her sword, and she ran to meet the knights, Tknombi in tow. "Well? Let's go!"

The men ran as fast as they could in their plate armor, Daine following closely. They reached a road, and Daine could just make out the figures of people fighting down the stretch. The Lioness was very outnumbered.

Tknombi raced toward the fight. Daine stood back for a second, trying to decide whether or not to use sword, or shape-shifting. She decided to use her sword.

Running into battle with a troop of knights behind her, she screamed at the Tusaines angrily. Most of the Raiders had gotten off their horses, and were fighting on foot. Daine called out to the horses with her magic, asking them to abandon their masters. She got no reply, but could sense that these were corrupted horses.

"What fitting revenge this would be," Alanna taunted to ther opponent. "If I captured you to pay you back for kidnapping me twenty years ago?"

"Shut your mouth, Ignorant cur!" he replied, swing a sword at the Lioness with great speed.

"What, Duke Hilam? Are you afraid I'll distract you with my taughts?" she replied, laughing. "I'm surprised you aren't dead yet."

"I'm surprised that Roald didn't just kill you when he discovered you were a girl. But then again... Roald always was a softy..." he taunted back.

"You'll pay for that!" Alanna cried.

Daine snapped back to the battle, seeing two Raiders advancing on her from the front.

Goddess, she prayed, give me strength!

One of the men engaged in battle with one of Tortall's knights. The other advancing one ran at her quickly, unsheathing a sword as he came.

Daine focused, like Tknombi had told her she had to do, in order to use the Shang power. Suddenly, she disappeared!

Reappearing behind the Tusaine, Daine hacked at his side violently, cutting through rough leather. He screamed and turned, swing diagonally upward as he went. Blocking his hit slightly to late, her sword was knocked out of her hand.

"Never fought a Raider, huh?" he asked. "Well, I heard you were good. I guess my sources were wrong."

Instead of replying, Daine punched him in the face, breaking his nose.

"Bitch!" he screamed at her, wipping his nose with his shirt sleeve. "I'll kill you!"

He attacked once more, and Daine, at a disaddvantage without her sword, quickly whiped out one of her daggers. She ducked under his swing, and stabbed the dagger into his chest. Her knife met only hard leather. She neaded her sword.

Not letting her fear get the best of her, she swept her leg down and underneath his, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

Replacing her dagger in its spot, she snatched up her sword, and cut a deep gash in his leg as he was climbing up. He fell down, and struggled to get up, without success. Daine felt no sypathy for any of them. They were the enemy. They had to learn not to start sensless wars that they couldn't possibly win.

Daine walked over to the fallen solder slowly. Grabbing him by the back of his hair with one hand, she slammed his head to the ground, causing him to fall unconsious.

Next to her, the Lioness knocked away Duke Hilam's sword, just as Tknombi kicked a Raider ten feet backward. They were winning.

"Retreat!" Hilam screamed at his men. "Retreat!" he grabbed his sword, leaping onto his horse. "Back to the fort!"

They rode off into the forest, disappearing within seconds between the tightly knit tree trunks.


	8. Slaughter on the Great Road

(A/N:) Yes, it's me. As always, I'm here for your entertainment, and also to tell you about the story.

I'd like to remind all of you that you can email me at , or you can talk to me via reviews. I'm always open to comments, though I have been known to act... rashly... in a few unfortunate cases. I wouldn't do that to you, however.

The story so far? Tortall and Tusaine are waging war. Tusaine has taken Fort Drell away from Tortall, and Tortall wants it back, plus the entire Drell vally. So, Daine, Numair, Jonathan, Alanna, Raoul, Gary, exc. are sent to Drell. In this chapter, the two main armies arrive. One for Tusaine, and one for Tortall.

Don't forget to keep reading. It's nice when you review. So don't stop.

(End of A/N)

7. Slaughter on the Great Road

"Brother, he ordered them to retreat! We had them outnumbered ten to one, and he ordered a retreat! Can you believe this?" Hilam demanded, acting perfectly.

"You dissapoint me again, Ozorne."

"No!" Ozorne screamed, his eyes widening. "I didn't ordered them to retreat! _He _did! Not me!"

"You dare to accuse me?" Hilam demanded.

"Only because it's true!" Ozorne shot back, glaring at him.

"Proof?" Ain asked Ozorne quietly. Only silence gretted him. "That is what I thought. At least you, Hilam, are loyal to your King."

Hilam bowed deeply, grinning at the floor. "Yes, sire."

"You may leave."

"Many thanks."

For a few strained seconds, Ozorne stood, glaring at Ain, and realizing at that moment how very much he hated him. Yes, when he was Emperor Mage once more, he would get revenge. First on Hilam, then Ain, then Jemis. Then he would use his superior navy and armies, and crush Tusaine, claiming all their land for himself, and killing anyone still resistant to him. It would be his day, very soon. If the plans he had formulated in his head carried through, he would not have long to wait.

"Sire, last night I talked to our spy," Ozorne said, breaking the silence. "He informed me that the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd divisions of the Riders would be camping twelve legues south of the other fort. We can set up an ambush three legues away. If we do it all without making noise, and making no fire..."

"Alright, Ozorne," the King said. "I'll let you take this task. But if you fail me, I will have you cast into the fireweed. It will be your last act as a human being."

"I will not fail you, my King."

Ozorne left the room, a smile on his face. The 1st and 2nd divisions of the Riders were jokes. It was the 3rd, 7th, and 9th that were the powerful ones. He would regain control of the war, and he would _definatly _not be cast into the fireweed.

The Queen's Riders stopped for the night in a clearing three legues south of Ozorne. A smile passed over his face. When the Riders rode in the morning, they would be totally unsuspecting to find the enemy so far west of the fort that King Jonathan had built.

The plan was a complicated one. Lining the trees along the road were the very same Tusaine archers that had taken over Fort Drell. They were among the best in the Eastern Lands. Matched only by Ozorne's enemy, Veralidaine Sarrasri.

Near the archers was a group of completely underground tunnels, put under and around the road. Upon Ozorne's signal, they would burst up with their blades, cutting down horses and the enemy. Perhaps twenty yards behind the archers were two makeshift catapults that were loaded to the brim with liquid fire. If the Riders got through the archers, the catapults would begin firing. After the catapults was a small batallion of men, all large in size, perhaps about sixty of them. The Riders would be overwhelmed. There were only twenty Riders in each division. That meant only forty Riders would be able to try and defend themselves. It would be murder.

"Commander, the catapults are in position," an eager looking young solder reported, standing at attention in Ozorne's presence.

As the entire world will after I am Emperor Mage once more, he thought.

"Good. Tell the battallion they can sleep. Make sure that the archers understand that two of them are to stay awake at all times. Tell them not to use their horns until morning, and then only to signal to the catapults that the Riders have gotten through them."

"Yes sir."

"Go."

The solder left, a small bounce in his step. It was more than likely his first battle in the war, and he was eager to prove himself to his commander, and to his country. He was overconfident as well, and that would be his downfall.

Morning came faster then Ozorne expected. He suspected it was because it had taken so long to get around King Jonathan's patrols. They'd gone at least a legue down the river, then they had walked or rode all the way to the Great Road of Tortall. No matter. They were ready and prepared. They could not be beat this time.

The archers were awake and ready. The catapults were hidden from view by thick folliage on either side of the road.

The Riders rode into view, easy to see in the morning light. Ozorne signaled to one of the archers. Simultaneously, they drew their bows, and picked targets. They awaited Ozorne's second signal to start their massacre.

Ozorne turned and signaled to the catapults opperators, who nodded grimly. Then Ozorne turned to watch the advancing Riders from behind his large rock. He saw one of the catapult opperator signal the batallion.

Eyeing the approaching Riders Ozorne raised his left hand to the archers; the signal to begin firing. They did just that. With screams of pain, the front row of division one crumpled to the ground, followed by half of the second row.

"We're under attack!" one cried, voicing the obvious.

The archers stayed steady, firing arrow after arrow at the enemy. Ozorne shook with excitment. Soon he would be in the battle, along with the catapults, that is, if the enemy got past the unpresidentedly good archers.

Suddenly, the remainder of division one brook into a swift run guiding their mounts quickly. Ozorne tensed, as they drew closer. The archers had began work on the second division.

They reached Ozorne, and he stood, letting out a quick blast of fire. Five men fell to the ground, burst into flame, and turned to ashes almost instantly. The catapults rolled from behind the trees, and began launching liquid fire at Tortall's precious riders.

Ten more fell. Ozorne was almost giddy with excitment. This was going to be a complete victory! They hadn't even spotted his archers up in the trees yet, for the sake of the Gods!

The catapults continued firing. Division one of the Riders was gone. Division two had already dwindled beyond being able to be called a division, and three was already racing to their aid. Yes, this would work perfectly.

Ozorne signalled to a messanger on the ground near the archers. He nodded, and crawled into a tunnel behind a group of rocks along the side of the road. From the underground tunnels, the men burst up, cutting the legs from horses, sending Riders to the ground.

Ozorne signaled to the catapults, who in turn signaled to the batallion. With loud war cries, the batallion rushed forward, into the remaining Riders of division two. They were caught by surprise and slaughtered.

The archers sounded their horns. The third division had gotten past them. Ozorne looked, and saw that the archers had done a satisfactory job on this company as well. They were three fourths their original size.

Another line of trenchmen popped up, gutting the horses, and toppling the Riders again. The batallion charged forward, swords glittering with bright red blood in the rising sun.

The third division was cut down. They took longer, and they found the archers, and killed most of them, but in the end, Ozorne had destroyed three Rider groups completely. This would be a big loss for Jonathan. He needed those troops until his main army arrived. Ozorne wondered what he would think when they didn't show up.

Smiling wickedly, Ozorne cried, "Victory in the name of Tusaine!"

The men cheered loudly, throwing the order of silence into the wind. Ozorne couldn't blame them. They had finally won a battle after two loses, or one win and one tie.

"Back to Fort Drell!" he ordered.

"Somethings wrong, Numair," Daine told him. "The three Rider divisions should have been here by now. What's the hold up?"

"How would I now?" he replied, polishing an opal that he had recently acquired in a very expensive transaction with a supply caravan master. It gleamed as the ones around Ozorne's neck had.

"How did they bring Ozorne back from the dead?" she asked suddenly.

He blinked at her. "I suppose they somehow got a hold of Sorcerer Thom's, may he rest in piece, notes. And maybe even Duke Roger's as well."

"Oh, I almost forgot. I'm supposed to be on patrol," Daine told him, heading to the door. He merely nodded at her, and continued polishing his opal.

Daine stepped into the warm breezes of the open-air deck, inhaleing a variety of scents: sweat, manure, flowers...

Sighing she opened her eyes, and walked down the solid oak causway, then down the steps to the main level of the fort. It was bustling with activity, solders, Riders, and guardsmen running around, doing errands, and such.

Over in the corner a group of nobles conversed: nobles came to the fort at least once a week to speak with the King, not being able to at the palace anymore.

Daine then left the fort entirely, gretting her animal friends along the way to the western gate. She reached it, nodding to Onua and Alanna, and they began their patroll along with seven other knights.

Little did they know the horror they would find...

(A/N:) Yes. The horror that they will find. Want to know what it is?

To damn bad! I can't tell you! If I did, you might just skip the entire Fing chapter, and go to the next one! I can't have that happen, can I? No.

So keep reading. And yes, that is an order.

(End of A/N)


	9. Duke of Cont'e

(A/N:) Ah, yes, the horror they would find. This is my favorite part. Not my favorite part of the entire story, just my favorite part of... um... SHUT UP! I did know what I was talking about until you started that Fing laughing! SHUT UP!

Please, try to stop. Just 'cause I can't remember something doesn't mean you have to laugh. That's mean. That's the kind of shit that makes me angry.

Another funny story! Yayyyyyy! Yayyyyyy! Woooo Hoooo! Um... how did that story go again?... oh yeah.

Have you ever heard of Tony Hawk's Underground? Well, you better have, cause if you havn't, then you are quite possible the most retarded person I've ever virtually met. Anyways, I was playing it with my friend Jeff the other day, and I am like the master of that game, I mean I am so fucking good! And he beat my by like a kajillion points. Which is weird, considering that he's never played it before. And that's the kind of shit that makes me mad too.

Keep reading. I mean it. This time I'm fucking serious. You think I'm kidding? I'm not. So keep fucking reading. Before I get pissed.

Have a nice day!

(End of A/N)

8. Duke of Cont'e

Ozorne was very happy. Very content. He was having a great time. Ever since his victory over the Riders, every man at Fort Drell, and most of the solders in the Tusaine army respected him.

Yes, Ozorne thought cruely, his lip curling. They respect me. Perhaps more than even their Duke!

Respect from the men had got him off the hook with King Ain. It had also gotten him a nice set of plate armor with the emblem of Tusaine on it. And a string of opals along a neclace, and opals were the best kind of stone for amplifying ones magic.

The attack had been a complete success in Ozorne's eyes, as well as the mens'. But Ain proved to be smarter than Ozorne thought. He had a rooster of all the men there, and when nearly none of the archers returned, he immediatly summoned Ozorne and screamed his rage.

Ozorne didn't see what the big problem was. He'd obliterated _three _Rider companies! Three! It was something to be praised, not critisized.

"General," a man he didn't even know said as he walked by, standing at attention.

"Name?" Ozorne asked.

"Timmerin."

"Go on," Ozorne said with a smile. The man continued walking, a slight bounce in his step. Ozorne truely was respected now.

He walked deeper into the fort, greeted by many along the way. Briefly he was reminded of his righful position of Emperor Mage. How the servants and citizens alike carried out his every whim without so much as one complaint. Except that was out of fear. Fear worked much better, or so Ozorne thought. That goatherder's bastard Kaddar will be using the system of respect. He never was much for the fear method.

"Ozorne," Hilam said, nodding to him as he passed.

"Bastard," Ozorne muttered.

"Excuse me, general Ozorne?" Hilam asked.

"Yes, Your Grace?" he asked politely with a false smile.

Hilam gazed at him in disgust for a few seconds, then said loudly.

"I've got my eye on you, Ozorne. I am no fool. You're up to something. I keep telling Ain that your not trustable ---" he let out a string of curses aimed at both Ain and Ozorne. "--- and that you will betray us. But he is stubborn, and takes his orders from Duke Roger..."

"Duke Roger is dead! He has been for years! How can he be taking his orders from Roger?" Ozorne screamed.

Hilam smiled darkly. "He has his ways, Ozorne," he muttered.

Duke Roger looked on with mingled feelings. His portal was the size of his palm. So far all he could see was the Realm, but soon it would be big enough for him to climb through. And he'd get _his _revenge on Alan --- no, Alanna --- of Trebond.

Yes Ozorne, he thought with malice. You are but a pawn. Those opals around your neck? That is all fake. Those aren't even real opals!. While your Gift pours into me, energizing me and allowing me to open this portal more, you only _feel _like you're more powerful.

"Your Grace?" a voice interrupted his gazing.

Roger turned to view his companion and one-time squire, Alex Terrigan.

"Yes, Alex?" he asked, locking his gaze back onto the portal.

"Can I please come with you?" Alex pleaded. "Why should you get revenge on Alanna? She killed me too! It's not fair!"

"No, Alex," Roger sighed. "We've been over this one hundred-ninety-three times. If I allow you to come with me through the portal, you will try to gain your revenge before I can. You will be allowed to come through after, and only after, I've killed Alanna."

"But why?" Alex yelled.

"Because I've waited to long for the right person to carry out this plan with!" Roger screamed, losing the little patience he'd built up during the time he'd been dead. "Was it not I that got us away from the Black God? Yes. I can't offord to let this plan go wrong. I promised him the life of Alanna the Lioness, Veralidaine Sarrasri, and Numair Salmal'in in exchange for ours. If I do not kill Alanna, the plan fails, and we are both cast into the realms of Eternal Pain."

"What's so special about Ozorne?" Alex demanded.

"Don't you understand, you fool!" Roger cried. "Ozorne is the only one with enough magical power to open a portal into the Realms of the Dead. We _need _him."

"What about Numair Salmal'in?" Alex demanded, his eyes glittering. "He has enough Gift, he could do it, he has ---"

"Shut your mouth you ignorant child!" Roger screamed at him. "I would have used Numair if I could have! Do you think I would have wasted all my Gift moving Ozorne from the Realms of the Dead into the mortal realms if I could use Numair!? Are you that unbelievably foolish? Come now, have any of my other plans ever failed?"

"Yes."

The Duke suddenly remembered his plan to become King having been a failure.

"Well, the only plan I've devised that has failed was my plan to become King of Tortall. But this, young Alex, is annexed to that plan. They are the same plan, to put it mildly, set years apart."

Alex said nothing. The Duke didn't look up, or else he would have seen Alex's determined eyes, his hand clutching the handle of his sword so tight that his knuckles were white, and the grim smile on his face. Alex was not going to be cheated out of killing Alanna, not even by Duke Roger.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Daine muttered, then gagged, running into the edge of the forest. Emptying the contents of her stomach, she looked up.

And she saw something that made her throw up again. A man, three arrows in his head, one through his heart, and one in his stomach. In Tortallan colors.

Coming back onto the Great Road, where all the carnage was, Daine leaned unsteadily against Cloud.

"Gods," Onua whispered. "This is... this is murder!"

"No," Alanna said quietly. "This is war."

"But what of honor and the Rules of Chivalry ---" Onua started.

"Honor? Rules of Chivalry?" Alanna laughed a dull, cold laugh. "There is no honor in real war. That's just something the damned nobles tell you, 'you must fight with honor,' or 'keep the rules of Chivalry in your heart.' None of that matters in war. None of it."

Now Onua looked sick. Rapidly her face changed from normal tan to paper white. She ducked around Daine and Cloud, and a few seconds later Daine heard her heaving the fillings in her stomach out onto the ground.

Though she was sickened, Daine forced herself to look around the battlefield. It was as if Tortall hadn't put up a fight at all. Horses were strewn across the road, most gutted. All of them were dead, in any case. Daine couldn't help them.

The men that had ridden the horses and ponies were laying beside their faithful mounts. Many of them bore arrows in their flesh, some had been gutted along with their horses. One's head was cut almost completely off, dangling by a small cord of flesh that was bound to break.

Another pile of dead men still burned, liquid fire coating their bodies and their armor. They had literally been burned to death, the metal singeing their skin away, boreing down to the bone.

It was absolute carnage. Daine had probably killed about thirty men since her arrival here, but she had done it quick and clean. The bodies that were still burning had suffered for long minutes before they were liberated and sent to the Black God.

"The Black God must be busy," Alanna commented drily, as if reading Daine's mind. "I hope he's up to it. Tusaine is better this time. They will pose a threat. He will have many more stops before he can sleep again."

Daine nodded silently. How could anyone do this? The Riders must have been taken completely by surprise. Daine knew what it was like to ride with them, and she had friends in the Riders, just as Alanna and Onua did.

"We'll get them back," she muttered.

"What?" Alanna muttered absentmindedly. "Never mind. Let's go ---" she jerked her thumb to the west, along the road. "--- We're still on patrol."

The seven knights that had been with her at the gate remounted, having finished their search of the area around the road. They rode to the west against the midday sun, leaving a section of road shaded in colors of red behind them.

By the time Daine, Alanna, and Onua had finished their patrol, it was already time for the nightly meal. They had taken painstaking care in combing the areas within one legue of the battlefield, making sure that Ozorne was truely gone from Tortall soil before going on the real patrol.

With a yawn, Daine explained to Numair that she would be skipping the evening meal, and going to bed early. He nodded as she told him, and left when she was done to let her catch up on the rest she'd lost in the last few fights.

It was a tenseful night for the most part. The air was still, and seemed electrically charged. All the sentries were on high alert, their eyes never staying in one spot for once, all of them with arrows already in their bows.

Daine ignored all the tense feelings in the air, and snuggled deeper into the bedroll, trying to sleep.

Sleep came easier than she expected. It was almost as if she weren't part of this world between the time she was trying to get asleep, and the time she'd fallen asleep. Like she was there but she wasn't... its hard to explain.

_Daine stood back as she saw a man, clad only in black, with dazzling blue eyes the same color and shape as King Jonathan's. There was a young man next to him, with light brown hair, and hard grey eyes. He boasted the Tortallan shield._

_Suddenly a patch in the wall opened up, and he face appeared in the hold._

_Daine gasped and stumbled backward. The man with the dazzling blue eyes turned to face her, a strange smile on his face._

_"Alex, we have a visitor," he muttered to the young man. He jumped, turned and unsheathed his sword. "Take care of her."_

_Alex leaped, his sword coming toward her dream-self in a powerful arch that could split a horse in two. She brought her hands up to her face and screamed..._

Daine woke up, her bedroll soaked with sweat. The dream... it had been so vivid. How could it be a dream? It seemed more like a vision.

Something was about to happen, she could feel it. Grabbing her bow and quivver filled with arrows from hooks by the door, she flat-out ran to the wall, wanting desperatly to get up there before what was going to happen happened.

"Look!" someone shouted.

Daine glanced his way.

"Look!" the scream came again. "At Fort Drell! What's happening?"

The Fort instantly buzzed to life. Numair burst from his tower-study, clad in only a pair of breeches. Quickly, he ran to the stairs that led to the top of the wall. Daine, seeing the fearful look on her teachers face, followed fastly.

Suddenly the pain from her chest wound flared up again, and she stumbled into another person going up the stairs: King Jonathan.

"Your Majesty!" she cried horrifed, getting up and holding out a hand to help him. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay, Daine," Jonathan said flatly. "If you'd sent me falling to my doom ---" he glanced over the side of the stairs, and stared right at a rack of swords. He gulped, his face turning white. "Then maybe I'd be mad. Things are different here in Tortall than in Galla, haven't you caught hold of that over the four years you've been here?"

Daine remembered him saying something along those lines in her first year in Tortall.

"Perhaps," he said as she helped him up. "But old habits die hard, Jon."

Jonathan didn't reply, as another cry of "what's going on?" interrupted. Jonathan scrambled up the stairs, Daine on his heel.

"What's going on?" was a good question. There was a lot of activity at Fort Drell. Most of its fires had been lit, even the ones that were in each corner.

Suddenly, an idea dawned on her. She could shape-shift and find out what was happening!

"Jon," she whispered. "I could go. I could shape-shift and see what's happening."

"Are you certain?" Jon asked, his eyes darting to her chest wound.

Daine thought for a second before answering. "Yes. It hurts somethimes, but it actually feels better after I've shape-shifted."

"Then go. But ---" he said, grabbing her wrist as she stepped onto the raised part of the wall. "--- please be careful? I don't want to have a duel of magic with Daine any time soon."

"Understandable," Daine laughed. "But I'll be careful, Jon. I promise."

"You called me 'Jon'," he replied. "Does that mean we're friends?"

"I suppose it does."

"Goddess bless," he uttered, letting go of her wrist.

Daine leaped off the wall, shape-shifting into an eagle as she went. She wanted the lazer-focusing eyes of an eagle for this task.

She reached Fort Drell in record time, using the heat generated by dead bodies between Fort Tortall and Fort Drell to let her glide across.

What she saw took her breath away. The eastern gate of For Drell was open, and hundreds of men were pouring in. They were already beginning to set up tents, which Daine could see quiet clearly with her awesome eagle eyes.

Hoping to catch some conversation, Daine lowered herself until she was in earshot of a man that had his tent apart from the others, who wore a different uniform; a general.

"I don't want Ozorne to be top general anymore. He'll spoil everything!"

"Hilam, I can't take him away from his position as top general. My orders are very specific when it comes to him," another man answered.

The man named Hilam scowled. "I don't care what 'Duke Roger' told you, Ain. This is serious. Ozorne's next plan is destined to fail!"

"Not with me at his side," the third man replied. "With me there there's absolutely no way we can fail."

"Oh yes, the great general Yami," Hilam sneered. "I'm just as good as you. And watch your mouth when you talk to your Duke!"

"Excuse me, Your Grace," Yami answered, unphased by Hilams words. He turned his attention back to Ain, who Daine knew was the King of Tusaine. "What of Tortalls army?" he demanded. "I need to know numbers, Ain."

"And I am sure that Ozorne has them for you," Ain replied in a mild voice, nodding his crowned head in the direction of a man that lurked in the shadows.

Daine nearly had a heart attack when he stepped into the firelight. It was Ozorne!

"My King," Ozorne said, bowing, his many beads falling forward to shade his face.

"You have news, Ozorne?" Ain asked.

"The spy ---"

Spy! Daine screamed inside her head. Spy! Then realizing that she should be listening tuned in her ears again.

"--- Reports that there are at least ten-thousand men camped along the Great Road, on their way to Fort Tortall as we speak. He also says that the rest of the army will be here by tomorrow evening. The rest consists of at least 500,000 men. These aren't exact numbers, I remind you."

"Anything else?" Ain asked, ignoring Ozornes last bit of speech.

"They --- the Riders --- are furious about their losses. The Queen has ordered that every division of the Riders report for duty at Fort Tortall within the week. The Queen can be very pursuasive. Most of the divisions are already on the ride."

"Our numbers are even enough," Yami said. "We may have slightly less, due to the fact the Riders are coming, but are the Riders really that big of a threat?"

"Not all of them," Ozorne replied. "Mostly divisions in the odd numbers are the good ones. The ones we beat --- one, two, and three --- weren't very good. Division three put up a fight, but one and two were jokes. From what our spy can gather, divisions five, seven, nine, eleven, and eight are the good ones. Any news of Roger?"

"He says the portal is almost big enough for him to get through. He says to give him one week, and he'll be back into the mortal realms," Ain admitted. "But his companion, Alex of Terrigan is giving him trouble. He says he would already have killed him, except he doesn't want to waste his Gift. He needs it for opening the portal."

Having heard enough in her opinion, Daine lifted off again, flying back to Fort Tortall, ignoring the fact that she was making noise.

"Shoot that bird!" she heard a scream behind her...

"So, you would have killed me by now, hmm?" Alex demanded, furious. "Huh? Are you listening, Your Grace?"

"No Alex, it... he's lying!" Roger yelled in reply. "Would I do that to you? Plus, our rooms are annexed together, you'd have heard me!"

Alex seemed to accept this, as he took his hand off of his sword. He still looked wary, but he would get over it eventually. After all, he had a mission. He had to destroy Alanna the Lioness. He had to.

He still remembered what had happened. How he'd been winning, in complete control of the battle. Then out of nowhere, Alanna had kicked him aginst the wall, and then cut him down. Such a dishonorable way to die. Such a dishonorable way to fight.

Later he learned why he hadn't seen the kick. Alanna had apparently been training with a Shang warrior, learning all of the methods.

"What happens if we can't deliever the lives of Alanna, Numair, and Veralidaine?" Alex suddenly asked.

Roger sighed. "We get cast into the realms of Eternal Pain." For some reason he smiled. "But I've already got that worked out. I'm going to place powerful magic on me when I get out, so that the Gods can't even touch me ---"

"What about me!" Alex screamed. "If the Gods can't touch you, they'll be coming to me..."

"I was getting to that, Alex. Twenty years being dead had dulled your manners. We can't have that once we're back in the mortal realms, now can we? We have to listen to King Ain."

"Yes, Your Grace," Alex finally replied, after having something of a staredown with Roger.

"That's better. Now, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, The Gods won't be able to touch you either. Number one, because my plan is unfailable, number two, because I will kill Alanna, and right after that, you will be set free. Then I'll simply put the magic on you as well."

"That all sounds well and good," Alex protested, "But what if something goes amiss, like a crucial battle lost, or a crucial pawn killed..." he droned on.

Roge shook his head. "Nothing can go wrong, my apprentace. You can sleep easy tonight, for tomorrow I go through the portal, and the next day you follow me when I reopen it."

"Can you even reopen it that fast?" Alex inquired as he climbed into his cot, glancing wearily at Roger.

"Do you know who you speak to?" Roger asked.

"Yes, Your Grace," Alex said as he pretended to go to sleep.

Roger smiled, as he leaned against the wall opposite the portal.

Both the Duke of Cont'e and Alex were startled awake several hours early by a loud knocking on their front door.

Without waiting, the door blew in off its hinges, smashing into the wall with the portal on it and disappearing in a swirl of colors.

"I can't let you do this, Roger," the new man, or rather young man, said as he entered. "I can't. I've known about it all along. Don't give me that look. I always was better than you."

"Who are you?" Alex asked sleepily. "You!" he screamed, jumping out of bed. Instantly a band of violet rope wrapped around his arms and his legs, locking him tightly into the position of a ball.

"I'll take no mouth from you, Alex of Terrigan!" Thom, the man, Alanna's brother bellowed. "You are but an ant to me. I could crush you right now ---" he sqeezed his fist, bringing a squeel of pain from Alex. "--- But I take pity on those less fortunate than me. I cannot, will not allow you to do this."

"Playing the hero again, eh Thom?" Roger asked, grinning. "Do you remember how you almost got your sister killed? I do. You couldn't stop me. And then you died, crumbled to pieces, remember? So Alanna came after me, playing the hero like you are now. And she killed me, but she almost got killed by both me and Alex along the way."

"I brought you back from the Realms of Eternal Pain," Thom said snappishly. "I can send you back there, and that's no less than what you deserve. Plotting against the Gods and who knows what else!"

Alex burst free from his wrappings and jumped to his feet. Clad in only his loincloth, he reached for a sword that wasn't there.

"Sit!" Thom commanded. Almost immediatly Alex fell to the ground, moaning in pain as he rubbed his tail bone.

"You know I'll get you back for that," Alex muttered. "I'm going to kill you anyways, as your related to the woman that killed me."

"Silence!" Thom commanded. Alex kept opening his mouth, but no sound came out. "Keep quiet or I'll make the effects perminate," he added with a warning tone in his voice.

"What brings you here then, young Thom?" Roger asked, pretending not to know why he was here.

"If you go through that portal you will upset the balance of power ---" Thom began.

"I've calculated this process over and over in my head. More than one hundred times, Thom! I'm prepared to accept any consiquences that I get."

Thom stood, staring his one-time housemate in the eye. "I can't allow you to do that, Roger."

"That's Duke Roger to you!" Roger screamed, completely loosing it. "Alex, you hold him back. I'm going through that damned portal if it fucking kills me!"

He, Alex, and Thom all jumped for the portal at the same time...

Daine woke up, the sun was already shineing through the drapes of her window. Suprised she hadn't woken with the sun, she sat up, propping on her elbows.

She was completely unprepared for the waves of pain that hit her. Suddenly fighting for breath she fell back to laying flat, screaming in pain.

There are needles everywhere! she thought wildly. I feel like a pin-coushin!

It was true. Her left arm ached in a slow steady pulse, her chest wound was reopened, and it hurt like hell. There was also a light gash across her neck, right along the artery, but that barely stung.

Her screams had been heard by a maid, who rushed into the room.

"Good, your awake," she said putting a cool cloth onto Daine's chest. She pulled back the sheets on the bed, reavealing a naked Daine.

"Daine? I heard you screaming ---" A lanky man clad in black said breathlessly, entering the room. Numair.

"Get out of here!" the maid shrieked, throwing a roll of badages at Numair. "I am treating a patient! And she's naked! Pervert!"

"Woah, wait a second," Numair protested. "I didn't know ---" he glanced helplessly at Daine as the maid started beating him with a book.

To weak to even pull the sheets back up, Daine ignored the fact that she was blushing and naked, and rolled her eyes. Numair laughed, and shielding his face, ran out the door.

"That's better," the maid said. She came back to Daine's side, picking up the cool cloth that she'd placed on Daine's chest and putting it back onto her, flipped over. "Did you know it's going to be midsummers day tomorrow?" the maid added, putting some type of healing salve on Daine's neck wound.

"That's just a little knick," Daine complained.

"That it may be, it can still get infected," the maid replied evenly. She reminded Daine of her mother, Sarra.

Then the army is here, Daine though triumphantly. And that means Tusaine hasn't striked yet. We're safe --- for now.

Then Daine remembered. She had to tell Jonathan!

(A/N:) Hey, its me.

I know that this chapter started exciting and ended slightly not exciting. I'm okay with that. And come to think of it, you'd better be too!

So, keep reading, loyal readers! Yes, keep it up. Don't quit. I don't like quitters.


	10. The Dead Walk Again

(A/N:) Hi!

Nothing to say, really, so I don't know why I did this author note. I get that way sometimes. I just do things, either without knowing what I'm doing, or without any reason.

Like yestereday when I just jumped in my car and drove around town twice. I don't know why I did it. It was a waste of gas, and I really didn't even do anything.

See? I get that way sometimes. Did I already say that? See! I get that way sometimes too. Gah! Back to the story then.

(End of A/N)

9. The Dead Walk Again

Thom sat up, rubbing his head slowly, using his Gift to search for any injuries in himself. That was about when he felt it.

He wasn't in the realms of the Dead anymore, he could tell. The air was too crisp, the scents too vivid. The Realms of the Dead was a hollow place. The Black God provided them with sunlight, and a landscape, but he had neglected to give them scents and good air.

"Where the hell am I?" Thom demanded to no one in paticular. Looking around he saw a familiar sight: the Great Road of Tortall.

After several double-takes of the road, Thom said outloud, "I'm in _Tortall_? How can _I _be in Tortall?"

"Well, I see you're awake as well," Duke Roger said drowsily. A cut in the side of his head was bleeding freely. "Where's the other one?"

Alex wasn't anywhere to be seen. One of two things could have happened. One: Alex might still be in the Realms of the Dead. Two: he could be already on his mission.

"That goddamned double crosser!" Roger screamed, coming out of his trance. "He was ahead of me when I went through the portal, right beside you! He's already gone!"

Thom thought fast. He didn't know what Alex planned to do in this realm, but he knew that Roger wanted to kill Jonathan.

"Roger, to but it bluntly," he said. "I'm more worried about what you're going to do in this realm than what Alex is going to do."

Roger glared at him, his fists clenched at his sides. But both of them were exhausted from their cross between the realms. They weren't going to start something that would kill both of them.

"We'll have to find him," Roger said tensly.

"Wrong, Roger. You'll have to find him," Thom said, getting to his feet. "I am going to find someone else."

"Majesty!" the gate guardsman called. "A rider approaches the gate!"

Jonathan frowned. He already had enough problems to worry about, as Daine viewed it. He was fighting a war; these nobles didn't have to come every week.

"Who is it?" Jonathan demanded. "A noble?"

"Can't reconize him."

Jonathan stalked to the door, fitting the Dominion Jewl beneath his shirt. Daine gazed on in silence, distracting herself from her sentry duty as she watched what was happening at the gate.

The gatemen opened the door, admitting the man who rode a chessnut mare, and had no companions. Daine viewed this as odd; in these times not many rode alone.

Jonathan gapped at the man, his knees quivvering almost uncontrollably.

"Thom?" he finally choked out. "Thom of Trebond?"

The man on the mare looked down at Jonathan as if seeing him for the first time.

"Jon?"

He swung himself down from the saddle, bowing to Jonathan.

"Highness," he whispered.

"It's not 'Highness' anymore. It's 'Majesty,' but you need not call me that for now, Thom," Jon paused. "You can tell me how you happen to be alive when your own sister witnessed your death over twenty years ago, however."

"Duke Roger," Thom whispered. "Duke Roger and Alex of Terrigan. They've been plotting against you even while in the Realms of the Dead."

"Duke Roger?" Jonathan gasped. "But... he... he's dead! Alanna killed him. Twice!"

"Ozorne."

"Ozorne is alive too!" Jonathan bellowed, angry. "Tell me, do the Gods have any control over anyone anymore?" he shook his fist at the sky to emphasize his point.

"Roger, he brought Ozorne back ---"

"Not here!" the King hissed. "We'll do this in Numair's study!"

They left, Jonathan leading the way. Daine whispered an apology to her sentry partner, and hurried off. She didn't need to, of course, she was senty-master. She could leave when she pleased, but she felt better having told her partner she was leaving.

Daine reached Numair's study about twelve seconds before Jonathan and Thom did, whispered a hurried explaination to Numair, and sat in a chair below a slit in the wall.

Jonathan entered, Thom at his heel.

"Numair, we have things we must discuss," Jonathan said, the color returning to his face, which had drained of color he'd been so angry before.

"Is this?..."

"Yes."

Thom sat, his average frame sagging into a cousoned chair beside Daine's

"Veralidaine Sarrasri," he murmered. It was not a question.

"How do you know my name?" Daine asked quietly.

"I saw you from... from the Realms of the Dead."

Daine gasped, a reply Thom apparently had been expecting.

"I'm Alanna's brother..." her murmered again, ignoring her gasp. "I was sucked back through Duke Roger's portal..."

Suddenly silver fire bloomed in the center of the room, and a large, hairy creature stood there; the badger.

_--- Kit, _he said right away. _--- Treatury is afoot. Three humans, two mages, one normal, escaped from the Realms of the Dead. The Black God says that it is none of my concern but... I have a responsability. I asked him and --- _he broke off for a second, glaring at Thom. _--- And here is one of them. I will just send him back where he belongs. Back to the Realms of the Dead ---_

"No, badger," Numair said firmly, Jonathan having explained the situation to him.

Thom ventured forward, placing a hand on the badgers shoulder.

"You have a passenger," he murmered in the same voice he'd been using since stepping into Numair's study. "Reveal yourself!"

A small squeel of pain revealed a Darking, Gold-streak.

_--- Oh, how will I ever repay you? --- _the badger asked sarcasticly. _--- For harming my friend, that is. ---_

"Many pardons," Thom murmered, leaning back into his chair, and closing his eyes.

"Tell him, Thom!" Jonathan commanded.

Slowly, the man called Thom opened his eyes. "Ozorne."

Daine froze in the act of reaching toward Gold-streak. They were speaking of Ozorne! So he _was _alive!

"Ozorne," Thom murmered again. "Duke Roger sent him back, made him alive. Now Ozorne is the top general of the Tusaine Army. He attacked the Riders." He took a long breath. He looked sick. "Now Roger is out of the Realms of the Dead, along with Alex ofTerrigan."

"Two of Alanna's worst enemies," Jonathan whispered, his eyes widening. "How'd they get loose?"

"Ancient magic," Thom said, now struggling to speak. "Do you have healing elixor?" he asked Numair.

With a confused look, Numair went to one of the many shelves lining the wall, opened a drawer, and pulled out one of the bottles laying there, a green colored one.

Thom accepted the liquid with his thanks, then gulped it down quickly. He seemed rujuvinated afterward, his voice returning.

"Is it perminant?"

"Yes."

"Many thanks," Thom said, his voice strong and steady now. He set down the glass bottle, returning to the story. "Roger made a 'deal' with the Black God. In exchange for him, along with Alex, to return to the mortal realms, he would give him the lives of Veralidaine Sarrasri, Alanna of Trebond, and Numair Salmal'in." His eyes flickered at Numair. "The Black God never intended to let him go. But Roger was smarter than him, and left a week before he had initially planned. The portal sealed behind us." He glanced at the ground. "Alanna?..."

"She's alive and well," Jon replied, with a small smile. "She's out on patrol. I can't wait to see the look on her face when she sees you again."

Thom didn't look up, so it was impossible to see the look on his face.

"Some place I can sleep?" he asked groggily.

_--- Then you shall need a bed --- _the badger replied. Silver fire swarmed in the corner of the study, and Thom stumbled over to it, climbing into it, not even bothering to take off his boots.

"Tell me when Alanna's back..." he murmered, already half asleep.


	11. Reunion

(A/N:) Yeah! You didn't think I'd do it? I did it! Yeah!

That's right. I'm just breaking all the rules! Ozorne, Thom, Roger, Alex... what's next, huh? Ha Ha! Ha! and also Ha! This is like the coolest like story in like the world. Ever. I mean, holy fucking shit. What else could I possibly do? Read and find out.

I'm serious.

Oh, and also, everything that happens in this book ties in with the next book, and the next book, and the next book... and so on... and so on...

So you have to read this one. I'm not submitting thesequel until I'm done with this one, so you should read this one. Really.

I mean, Gods, you've gotten so far! Don't give up! _I _believe in you. And that's saying something. Jk jk.

(End of A/N)

10. Reunion

"WHAT!?"

"I said that your brother, Thom is here," Jonathan repeated, and seeing she was about to tell him that was impossible, added, "Would you like to see him?"

"It is... impossible," Alanna replied slowly, remembering how Thom had brought Roger back from the dead.

"Really?" Jonathan asked, cocking one of his eyebrows skeptically. "So you deny that you had to kill my cousin two times?"

"Alright, it's not impossible. It's just not possible," Alanna concieted. "I don't believe everything I here, Majesty. I do believe other things, such as things that I see."

Jonathan got the hint. "Alright. Wait here, and I will bring your humble brother to meet you."

Alanna sat on a hard wooden bench outside the mess hall, where Jonathan had confronted her. How could this be? How could Jonathan possibly be telling the truth? Her brother, alive?

Without warning, her eyes brimmed with tears. Her brother was alive! Jonathan would not lie to her about something like that, and she seriously doubted he would lie to her about anything else. Thom!

Footsteps greeted her ears. Jonathan and Thom walked around the corner, Thom wearing new robes of black.

"Thom!" she cried, not caring if it looked rediculous for a full knight of the realms to cry in front of companions. She ran to meet them before they'd fully rounded the corner, hitting Thom at top speed.

She didn't pass through, so it wasn't a similicron. With a sad sort of happiness, she hugged him tightly, weeping freely into his shoulder.

"What's this then?" Thom asked, taking her chin in hand and raising her eyes to his. "A knight of the realm _crying_?"

She laughed, blinking the tears out of her eyes quickly, knowing that the men in the mess hall would soon come out. She pulled away from Thom.

"Miss me?" he teased.

"Of course, you fool!" she exclaimed, staring into his eyes. "I never even dreamed I'd see you again, at least not in my lifetime."

"Nor did I," Thom replied, "It seemed as likely to me as you 'kissing a pig.'"

"I can't believe you still remember I used to say that!" Alanna exclaimed after a second of trying to figure out what he meant.

"At war again, sister?" Thom asked. "I thought this was Fort Drell when I rode in. They look somewhat similar. I should have guessed that our esteemed King," he smiled at Thom and bowed slightly, "would have gotten my sister into another war with Tusaine, let alone allow Tusaine to take over the entire river vally and the fort itself."

Jonathan glared at Thom, and Alanna could see his arms flexing, as if readying himself for a fight.

"Thom ---" Alanna began to warn him.

"I know, dearest sister. I can't be being locked up right after our reunion, can I?" he turned back to Jonathan, kneeling on one knee. "You have my most gracious appologies, noble one."

Jonathan couldn't help but smile, although his arms remained flexed.

"By the way, is there anything I can do to help around here?" Thom asked, climbing to his feet.

General Yami signaled to the men on the other side of the field they were in with a wave of his arms. The lead general over there, Hilam, waved back, and then his batallion, including him, sunk into the shadows.

Yami glanced back at his own batallion, twenty or so sweating men, and flicked his fingers almost carelessly to the center of the field, where an accurate model of a Rider barrack was set up.

The men behind him charged forward silently, the product of years of hard training in the service of Tusaine and Yami. With amazing speed and accuracy, they tore apart the side of the Riders barracks nearest them.

Right on cue, archers in the trees began firing into the building through the opening that Yami's batallion had created. Their arrows pierced into life-sized models of humans, painted in Tortallan colors.

Yami's group disappeared into the shadows of the forest, just as Hilam, leading his batallion charged out into the clearing just as silently. Armed with flaming arrows, they set the wall nearest them aflame.

The fire spread quickly, eating everything in its path. It had been created by Ozorne. The other two walls, the end ones, quickly crumbled as well, and both batallions swarmed into the Riders barracks, slicing into the wood and straw dummies.

The time that this delicate opperation took, was only three and a half minutes, including the time they'd spent on destroying the Tortallan walls before that.

"General Yami," Hilam aknowledged, running up to meet with Yami's battallion. "That was the best time yet."

"Yes," Yami said lazily. "Amazing what training can do for an army."

"I know what training can do for an army, Yami," Hilam replied suddenly cold. "I was top general before you and Ozorne entered the picture. And I was about to be remade top general before you came. I am a Duke; I can have you killed, and I can kill you myself. I can have you exicuted. I suggest that you do not take that tone with me again."

Yami ignored him. He wasn't afraid of death, besides, Ain needed him. He wouldn't allow anyone, not even Hilam, to kill him at this point. Not until the war was won, or they found a suitable general to replace him.

"Did you hear me?" Hilam demanded.

Yami massaged his temples, trying to block out Hilams voice as he screamed: "I said did you hear me! I will have you killed, if you do not respond to me now!"

Yami turned to stare into Hilam's wildly angered eyes.

"Shut up," he said slowly, making sure that Hilam heard every word of it. "How's that for a response?"

Hilam stopped walking, only to stare at Yami angrily. His voice cracked with anger as he screamed: "Arrest this man!"

No one came to stop Yami, so he continued walking, leaving a surprised and angry Hilam behind him. They had more work to do, much more.

"And you don't know where Alex _or _Roger are?" Gareth the Older of Naxen demanded. "You did not stop to think that Roger or Alex might be... somewhat... dangerous?" he guestered at Alanna. "She had to kill him twice, because he wouldn't die. He almost succeeded in killing the past King and Queen. Your telling me he's back, but you don't know where? We might as well just _hand _Jonathan over to him on a silver platter, wrapped and roped."

With angry, echoing steps, he began pacing the chamber they were in. His breath came in short bursts, and his eyes were wide with anger.

"Alex ---" Thom began

"You let them go!" Gareth interrupted. "Alex does not pose as much of a threat to the King, but more to your sister ---" Alanna suddenly turned white, and began to sweat. "What's wrong?" he demanded of her.

"Your right. I never thought about it when I heard Alex was alive... but he will be able to blend in much more than Duke Roger, he ---"

"Get to the point!" Gareth snapped.

"_He _can get to _me_."

"No!" Thom screamed standing. "We both know what he looks like! He won't get to either of us," he rushed to Alanna's side to comfort his sister.

"Why is it that you fear Alex so?" Gareth asked, his voice softening.

"Because he can beat me," Alanna replied. "There are only two people in this world that can beat me in a fencing match. One of them is on our side, but the other is Alex, and he has a fuel to inspire him on his hunt for me; revenge."

Daine stood, testing her wounded spots. Her chest was now very near to being fully healed, the cut in her neck was gone, and her arm --- as far as she could tell --- was fine.

Looking around, she saw a pile of her clothing in the corner. Bending down, she undressed. Turning to find a fresh loincloth, she glimpsed herself in the mirror. It was the first time she'd seen herself in a mirror for a long time.

Gasping, she dropped her old loincloth to the floor, walking to the mirror. She'd become a full grown woman over the years, without even realizing it.

Her lips were soft and beautiful, her hips rounded and large enough for child-birth. Her breasts were larger than they'd been last year, full and round. She'd had her monthly cycles since she was thirteen.

Turning back to clothing herself, she pulled on breeches, and a soft white shirt. They were all fresh, she noticed. Someone must have done laundry.

Stepping out the door, she walked into the open-air deck. Across the open-air deck from her room was Numairs, inside Numair's rooms was Numair. She could see him from the window up in his tower-study; the window was opened.

"Hello!" she called up to him.

"I see you're feeling better," he commented, smiling down at her. He'd been really worried about her while she was recooperating, and had come to see her every day --- the days that the maid that had beat him with a book wasn't there.

"I'll come to see you later," Daine said, discovering that she didn't have to yell for him to hear her, as the fort was unusually quiet. "I'm going to find Alanna."

He nodded, as his head disappeared back through the window. Feeling rejuvinated after her two extra days of rest, Daine made her way to the end of the open-air deck, and ran down the stairs, happy to discover that there was barely any pain in her chest, which had been a hendrence to her.

It was easier to find Alanna then Daine thought; she was in the middle of the training yards, fencing with Jakkar.

For a moment, Daine lent back, gazing with admiration at the only woman knight in the world. She was every bit as good as people made her to seem, never faultering in her movements.

Of course, as even Alanna admitted, Jakkar was better. He started attacking in earnest, and by the rules of Chivalry, which clearly stated that the first to draw blood won, he lightly poked her in the arm, winning the match.

Alanna laughed, looking down at the barely noticable pinhole in her flesh.

"I've got patrol," she said to Jakkar, who nodded. With a sigh, Daine sat back. She'd have to wait to learn more about Alanna's brother, Thom, later, when Alanna could properly introduce them.

Seeing movement in the corner of her sharp eyes, Daine whipped around to stare into the eyes of a man taller than her, and shorter than Numair; Thom.

"Oh!" Daine uttered a cry of surprise.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Thom said, with a dejected look on his face.

"I apologize, Lord Thom," she said formally, bowing slightly.

"Please!" he exclaimed. "My friends call me 'Thom.'"

"Am I your friend, Lord Thom?"

"I certainly hope you can be," he replied. "You seem to be well liked by everyone here at the fort, including our King..."

Daine blushed but didn't reply.

"What can you tell me of Ozorne?" she asked shyly.

"I can tell you," he said slowly, "That Ozorne wants you... that he wants you dead. That he wants revenge on you."


	12. Alex

(A/N:) Hi! It's me... again.

Alright, I know that pretty much everyone knew by now that Ozorne planned to kill Daine and Numair, as it was stated in one of my previous chapter. I just thought it coming from someone who actually knew the situation would make it seem more... I don't know --- dramatic? Yeah that's it.

So um... I'm trying to clean up my image, so no more swearing in my Author Notes. For a while. I think it may be negative for my reviews.

Anyway, in this chapter (11) almost everything is going to be about Alex, and what he's doing right now. You know, I _did _creat him into this story, so I _am _going to focus on him from time to time.

Keep reading, this is a _great _chapter. Just like all my other chapters.

(End of A/N)

11. Alex

Alex gazed up at his makeshift shelter he'd made under the tree. The tree had large, thick roots, which served as a roof for rain, though there wasn't much, this being summer in Tortall. It was a five foot deep pit, so that his head stood above it three or four inches when he stood. It was perfectly hidden as well.

He had with him weapons that he had gathered along the way; his own sword, a discarded bow and a quivver of arrows, a dagger he'd found that had an eyeball stuck in the end, and a broken shafted spear. It wasn't much, and he barely had any arrows left; he hadn't gathered many to began with, as he had forgoten that those in the mortal realms tended to need to eat.

He had also placed a square wooden plank he'd found into a tree, and that was used as a tree-stand, so he could see the surrounding area, and also hunt game for his food. He'd already lost two arrows hunting, but was getting back into the hang of travling lightly and being patient with his hunts.

His day consisted of hunting, sleeping, and wandering. He had seen two forts earlier, but he was unsure of which was which. It had been a while since the first war of Tusaine, and he couldn't completely remember it, as his memory was slightly fuzzy.

"Who goes there!" a voice called to him.

Alex whipped around quickly, unsheathing his sword in the process. Behind him stood a full grown knight, possibly an entire head taller than Alex. He had a broadsword in hand, and a grim look on his face.

"I said who goes there!" he yelled at Alex. "What be ye name?"

"Terrigan," Alex replied, trying to mumble.

The knight scratched his head. "Terrigan..." he murmered. "Terrigan. Can't say that I know any Terrigan. Are you of Tortall?"

"Yes sir," Alex said, straitening his back. "I am."

"Good. I leave you to your... business," he replied, and set off. Of course, Alex couldn't just let him waltz out of there like that. He may inform his overlords that he'd seen someone during patrol when he reported to them.

Picking up his bow, he drew back the bowstring as far as it would go, and fired at the man. He uttered a gasp of pain, slumped to his knees, then fell onto his face, blood oozing feely from the arrow in the back of his head.

Alex walked up to him, bent over, and pulled out the arrow with both hands. It was so far into the man's head that he had to tug with both hands as hard as he could. From his view it was highly strange that he had even hit the man, considering his hunt the day before had been... less than satasfactory. He hadn't even been aiming when he loosed.

"No matter," he said out loud. "I will just bury this man, then worry about finding 'Sir' Alanna of Tortall and Trebond. She will pay for what she did to me."

He lugged the large knight's body over both of his shoulders, and hunching his shoulders, walked into a grove of trees to bury the lifeless body.

Roger glared at the metalsmith he was trying to bargain with.

"No. I said I would pay only twenty gold nobles," he said stubbornly.

"And I heard ye," the burly man replied. "And what I said to ye was 'I want forty.'"

Roger calculated his options in his mind. He had only twenty gold peices, which is why he offered only twenty. The sword surely wasn't worth more than thirty, was it?

"Thirty," he said.

"Ney. Thirty-five."

"Alright," Roger replied.

The metalsmith turned to get the sword that Roger had selected. While his back was on the one-time Duke of Cont'e, Roger summoned his Gift.

He couldn't make a mess of it. People had to believe he'd died naturally, or they'd be suspicous. Roger had to stop the man's heart.

Roger rested a hand on the smith's back, sending his Gift rushing throught the man's veins, in search of the heart.

"Hey," the man protested. He was already becoming drowsy.

Roger's Gift reached the smith's heart. "I thank you for your business, my friend," he said in a falsly warm voice. "May the Black God pity your kind soul."

With his free hand, Roger squeezed at the air. The man's eyelids drooped, and Roger felt that he had not heartbeat.

Crossing the small barrier between him and the metelsmith's forge, he stood before a wall of swords in every shape and size.

"Hmmmm..." he muttered, massaging his bearded chin. "I believe I shall take two of them."

He reached up, and selected two swords that were almost identicle, both curved, and with very sharp and wicked looking edges.

"These will do," he said to himself, selecting two sheaths for them, and clipping them onto his belt. "Now to find that bastard of a traitor Alex."

Daine looked up from her writing of a letter to Kaddar. Numair had walked through the door, looking nervous.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, looking into his eyes.

"I don't know... I feel that something --- something bad --- is going to happen very soon. Very soon, as in within one to two days," he replied, sitting down into a extra stuffed armchair. "Writing to someone?"

"Kaddar."

"Ah," he said, "I'd forgotten that he asked you to write to him. Does he write back?"

"Of course. It just takes quiet a while for our letters to get to each other, you know, having to send them though not only the country, but also the Great Inland Sea," Daine retorted, folding the finished letter and putting it into a brown envelope. "What exactly do you think is going to happen?"

Darkness clouded his eyes, and he looked away. "Something horrible. Many will die, many will be injured."

"How can you know this?" Daine demanded. "Does it have something to do with Ozorne?"

"I don't know," he said flately, staring into her eyes. His were clear again. "I wish I knew... but I don't."

Daine glanced down, her eyes filling with sudden tears. "Why is he alive again?" she demanded to the ground in a sob-like voice. "I killed him. He's going to try to get revenge on me, and perhaps even you. I'm scared."

Numair walked behind her, and wrapped her in his strong embrace.

"I won't let them touch you," he assured her. "I promise."

Jacob rechecked the locks on the door for the third time, taking extra caution in making sure they were sucure. He had almost gotten caught last time he reported, that would never happen again.

Shuffeling over to the fire, he took a pouch from on his belt, and put three grains of its contents, a orange colored powder, into the blazing fire. Almost instantly, the flames turned a bright white, then died back to a mild orange.

Jacob unshielded his eyes. He was used to this process by now. If only Ozorne wasn't such a showy mage, he wouldn't have to go through the bright flash, but Ozorne was a showy mage, and like to advertise his great power to the entire world.

Ozorne's head materealized into the fire, and he looked at Jacob expectantly. "Well?" he demanded icily. "Do I supply you with my powder to stare into the portal?"

"Sorry, Ozorne, sir," Jacob replied quickly, knowing that Ozorne wasn't a patient man. "Report... um... well, to make a long story short, the mage, Numair, suspects something is going to happen. Is His Grace, Duke Roger, among you yet?"

"No," Ozorne replied, his lip curling. "Seems that the Duke miscalculated his landing spot, perhaps?"

"Probably," Jacob said, laughing uncertainly.

"Anything else?"

"No. I havn't been able to get into the last two mar councils, but tomorrow they're having one, and I will be present."

"If that's all, then I'll take my leave," Ozorne replied, and his face disappeared.

Jacob opened another pouch from on his belt, and withdrew one grain of the black powder inside. He dropped it onto the fire, and the fire went out immediatly.

A loud hammering caused him to jerk his head to the securly locked door.

"Jacob?" it was John.

"Aye, John?" Jacob asked, switching back to his common voice. "What is it ye be wantin'?"

"Don't you remember, you dolt?" John's muffled voice replied. "Ye and me was going to have sentry duty tonight, remember?"

Was it already evening? Jacob wondered absentmindedly.

"Alright, John. I'll be out in a few minutes, lad."

Replacing both of his bags of powder on his belt, John walked to the door on trembling legs. It hurt him to lie to his oldest and dearest friend, but the plan was almost complete. In a few nights time, Tusaine would unleash Roger and Ozorne's plan, and destroy the eastern wall of the fort, allowing the Tusaine army, lead by general Yami, Ozorne, and Hilam, into the fort to kill and maim all the occupants. Except Alanna, and Jonathan, all would be killed. His Grace wanted Alanna and Jonathan alive, and Jacob followed their orders.

He would do what had to be done.

Alex couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was on one of his wanderings, trying to find out which fort was which, when he saw Roger.

His first instict was to call out to the Duke of Cont'e, but then he remembered that they were no longer allies. Steeling himself, Alex clutched his bow tightly, and aimed carefully at the moving Roger.

Something must have alerted Roger, because he whipped around, just as Alex dove behind a large bush. His eyes searched the area hungrily, as if he could sense someone there.

Slowly, Alex shifted into a kneeling position, glancing at the retreating Duke's back.

Alex sprang up, drew back his bow, and fired at the Duke. It missed him by millimeters.

Alert, Roger turned, drawing two swords while doing so. To Alex's expert eyes, they were perfectly forged, and must have cost the Duke the little money had had hung onto in death. He could tell they were both lighter than normal swords, and the curved edges on them would ensure good cutting action.

For a few momentes, Roger stared at Alex, his mouth hanging open. Finally, he closed his mouth, and began slowly to advance on Alex.

Alex gripped his own finely made sword with both hands, his palms beginning to sweat. He wiped them on his breeches, and began advancing on Roger as well.

It was as if a cue had been yelled to both of them, because at the same instant, they stopped their cautious approach, and bolted at each other, running as fast as they could.

They slammed into each other, their swords crossing. Alex pressed down with both hands, using his arms to try to overwhelm the Duke's hold and break away. No such luck, not against a man as good at fencing as he was at magic.

Roger pushed back, arching Alex's back for a few brief moments. Alex ducked out and around the Duke, swing his sword at the end of the duck.

Roger stepped back right on time, Alex's sword passing in front of his face harmlessly. He then bared down on Alex, swinging both swords furiously. Alex only had time to block, though he was constantly looing for a way to gain control of the offensive end.

Seeing an opportunity, Alex struck Roger's sword down near the hilt, knocking it from the Duke's grip and onto the grass a few yards away.

Roger turned white. How could he let such a stupid novice trick be used against him? He had forgotten how good Alex was at fencing.

Alex stepped back, swing his sword in one hand, smiling. He now remembered his training; he remembered that he was unbeaten. Well, not entirely, as Alanna had beaten him, and in doing so had killed him. But that was in the past. Besides, Alex would soon cleanse his honor, by killing that which had killed him.

Seeing Alex at ease infuriated Roger. His one-time squire was mocking him? This could not be allowed. Not on Roger's noble's honor.

He attacked again, driving the sword fast and fierce at Alex, trying to hit spot where it would hurt most: gut, collarbone, throat, and face. Alex went back to the defensive.

Roger lunged forward, and Alex fell back, though he was still smiling. Roger was becoming frustrated.

Duke Roger lunged in, his remaining sword flashing in a criss-cross pattern that to Alex's eyes, was nearly flawless. Nearly. At the end of Roger's movement, he struck, cutting a horizontal line in Roger's fore arm.

Roger emitted a strangled scream from his mouth, and switched his sword to his left hand. Alex now knew for sure that he could beat Roger. He was wrong.

The Duke muttered words that Alex couldn't understand, and a bright blue funnel of fire burst up around Alex. Instictivly, he dropped to the ground and roled, roling out of the entire funnel.

As soon as he appeared out of the funnel, he roled again, knowing that Roger would be waiting for him outside of it. He roled to late.

Roger's sword swung down onto him, catching him in the chest, cutting into flesh. He'd barely scraped the muscles of Alex's chest, but the pain was intense. Alex dropped to his knees, his sword falling from his grasp, both of his hands on his chest, trying to tame the wild blood flow.

The last thing that Alex saw before his world went red, was Roger standing over him, raising his sword above his head to deliver the finishing blow.

It found its mark.

(A/N:) Oh my freaking God! That was so awesome!

Wasn't it? I think it was. How about you? You'll have to tell me about it in a review. And don't forget the reviewing. That's like the most important part.


	13. Evil meets Evil

(A/N:) Well uh... I don't really have anything to say... oh, look at that the "o" button on my computer is messed up... awesome

Anyway, keep reading

I'm sure you're gonna love this next chapter...

By the way, I am extremely sorry for all the grammar and spelling mistakes in the previous chapters... also, this is the first time I've updated this story since... 2003? Yeah, 2003

Enjoy

12. Duke Roger

Roger was becoming increasingly frustrated with the fort his nephew had built. Fort Tortall, is it was being called, was a tall and imposing structure, and unfortunately for Roger, built on a flat plain that spanned for miles. If he tried the most direct route to King Ain and Fort Drell, he would be captured or shot... neither of which were appealing to him.

"Damn you Jonathan!" he cried, carefully keeping his horse close to the side of the river. He had to stay as far away from the fort as he could less the Tortallans saw him and decided to shoot first and ask questions later.

He had to admit though, Jonathan was a strategic-minded person. He had put the makeshift fort in the right place, at the right time, and as there was now a vast number of the Tortallan army there, he was taking no chances on being seen. Tortall was primarily an archer fueled army; he would be all to easy of a target for one.

Slowly, he made his way along the side of the river. Keeping one eye on the terrain ahead and one on the fort to his left, Roger picked his way carefully across the ground.

That is, he went slowly and cautiously until an arrow hit the ground in front of him.

"Go!" he screamed at the horse, desperately kicking its sides to make it go faster. More arrows hit the ground in front of him and behind him. With a sickening feeling, he realized that the archers were just playing with him. Any decent Tortallan archer could hit a mosquito from one hundred paces away.

Steeling himself for the impact of an arrow any second, he made a mad dash for Fort Drell...

Alex woke up to a world of pain. His chest was nicely bandaged and he could feel the slight pressure of a pad on his back. That, he suspected, was where Roger had pierced him to make him fall into unconsciousness.

He looked around and saw no open sky, no trees, and definitely no grass. So he knew now that this was not where he had been beaten by Roger. Above him was a roof, and on all four sides of him were walls. He was most certainly in a house of some kind.

Suddenly, the door he had just now noticed across from him opened, and a young girl, perhaps 14 or less, entered into it. Alex's first thought was to draw his sword; so he reached for it at his side. It wasn't there. His second thought was to pull the covers up; he tried, and to his great dismay, noticed he was too weak to do so and also that he was stark naked.

Soon after, as the girl approached and he could see her face and features clearly, he cursed the girl for being so accursedly beautiful. Laying naked on a bed with a beautiful young girl approaching he tried and failed to stop his physical arousal.

"I have brought you fresh clothes... sir," the girl said, blushing and trying to look away from his manhood. "Can you stand, or should I help you dress?"

Alex tried to stand and indeed, as he knew, he could not stand. Secretly, he wanted the girl to dress him, but for her sake he wanted her to know that he could not preform the request, less she think him a pervert and sick.

She approached shyly, offering her hand to him. He grasped it gently and pulled himself up. Using her as a balance, and graciously accepting her help, he pulled up a loincloth to cover himself. She helped him into a pair of breeches. He thanked her and pulled the tunic on himself.

From the way the girl dressed, he could tell that she wasn't from a noble family; but likewise, was not from a peasant family. She wore a cotton dress but it had silk lacings. He supposed she was from the middle class, a class that sprung from the loins of the lesser nobility.

"Are you tired, good sir?" she asked quietly, and he could barely hear her. "My mother wishes to know your name, and requests you to come to the midday meal—unless you are still tired."

"No, I am not tired. I would enjoy sharing a midday meal with you and your family," Alex replied, trying very hard to keep his eyes on her face and off her rather well-developed chest.

She noticed this as well and blushed deeply, turning and leaving the room. Sighing, Alex followed her. He knew he should not view a 14 year old girl as attractive, as he was 23... he thought so anyway.

She led him down a wide and well crafted stairway and into a large room. The family was well off enough to afford a glass window, fairly large, overlooking the shores of a lake.

A lake, he thought. Then, perhaps this is Goldenlake, from hence Raoul hails? He had to admit, the water of the lake did shimmer in a rather golden way.

Raoul, as far as Alex knew, had know knowledge of he and Alanna's feud—unless she had told him. However, knowing Alanna, he doubted she would have told anyone. She was, after all, stubbornly proud of herself, and would never admit how close he came to killing—defeating especially—her.

But Raoul would certainly know Alex had been dead for years, and would have questions Alex couldn't—or wouldn't—answer.

A woman, becoming plump with age, rose and met him formally with a curtsy. He returned the greeting with a deep—and rather stiff—bow. Raoul hadn't mentioned his family much to Alex or anyone else during their years becoming Knights, so he didn't know what she looked like at all.

"You must be... young Alex of Terrigan?" she asked quizzically. "Raoul has mentioned you and described you many times to me... but never before have we met."

"Then this is Goldenlake?" Alex replied. "I thought it might be when I saw the lake, but then again, Tortall has no shortage of lakes and ponds!"

The woman chuckled along with him at his joke. Then they sat to eat the midday meal, and she informed him that Raoul would be coming later that night to collect a new horse; his had fallen in battle with Tusaine.

Alex knew that he couldn't be here when Raoul came, no matter the cost. If Raoul saw him and reported it back to Alanna absentmindedly during a conversation, she would be on her guard for him.

With those thoughts on his mind, he settled into the midday meal and made small-talk with Raoul's mother.

Roger, panting heavily, had made it to the shadow of Fort Drell. His horse had an arrow imbedded in it's left flank, but as it was not his horse, he had no sympathy for the beast's pain. If it had run faster it wouldn't have been injured in the first place, after all.

He approached Fort Drell with his head held high, ignoring the guardsmen who were demanding his name. He rode through the open gates and continued on through the entire fort, forcing the horse to ride up the steep hill where King Ain's "palace" was. Ain would most surely be there, as always, sitting on his throne growing older and fatter by the minute.

Riding right past the door guards, Roger dismounted gracefully at Ain's feet and went into a deep bow.

"Ah, Ain, me dear friend, I come to bid thee hello," Roger said, grinning widely. Sitting in a chair next to Ain was Ozorne. And he had a very confused look on his face.

"Roger! How nice of you to join us! You see, Ozorne, you stupid cur, Roger is alive and well. The Duke of Cont'e walks again, ha!" Ain exclaimed enthusiastically. Turning to grab something behind him, Ain reappeared with Roger's wizard rod clutched in his hands.

He offered it to Roger, smiling manically.

Roger graciously accepted the token and stood as Hilam, followed by Yami, entered the chamber.

"Ah good, Hilam and Yami, you are right on time," Roger said. "Now we can begin planning the downfall of Tortall in earnest."


End file.
